


Pretty Lies

by southsidewrites



Series: can't keep from loving you [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Absent Parents, Abusive Parents, Angst, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Good Girl and Bad Boy, Guilt, Love, Pastor's Daughter, Regret, Religious Guilt, Romance, Sexual Discovery, Slow Burn, Technically an AU, Underage Drinking, only underage because they're all in high school, since I don't believe in season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-05-07 01:15:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 23
Words: 87,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14660205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southsidewrites/pseuds/southsidewrites
Summary: Pastor’s daughter Lydia Boyd has been best friends with Midge Klump her whole life.  When her best friend is brutally murdered in front of her very eyes, she is forced to reconsider everything she’s ever known to be true.  Lydia used to think she had it all figured out, that life made sense, but a newfound relationship forged by grief with bad-boy jock Reggie Mantle makes her consider the possibility that the framework of her entire existence might be no more than a pretty lie.Reggie Mantle knows he fucked up.  He’s made more mistakes than he can possibly count, and now the world is falling apart around him.  From an innocent crush, to a desire to belong, to the only friends he ever had, everything is being ripped away. He doesn’t know how things managed to spiral so far out of control, but he knows that she makes him feel safe.In a year filled with grief, longing, mistakes, hatred, and doubt, Lydia and Reggie rediscover themselves and learn what it means not only to love unconditionally, but to allow yourself to be loved back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After months of outlining, planning, and dreaming, it’s finally here. This fic begins on the day of Midge’s murder with the main focus being the summer after the characters’ sophomore year. It was initially planned to be canon-compliant, but the events of the last few episodes of Season 2 and all of Season 3 didn’t entirely work for me, so I would call it canon-compliant-ish. I’m not 100% sure how many chapters there will be, but I've got 24 chapters outlined, and I'll be updating weekly.
> 
> Enjoy, and let me know what you think (especially if I made you like Reggie even a little bit)!!

A scream pierced the air, cutting through the fog.  In seconds, the auditorium went from confused murmurs to shrieks of terror.  Midge.  My feet started moving faster than my brain, and I found myself rushing through the crowd to the stage.  Midge.  Arms out like Christ, blood dripping down the wall. Midge.  Screams were filling the room now, and everything sounded faint and hazy. Midge.  My best friend—knives sticking out of her chest.  Midge.  She couldn’t be dead.  She just couldn’t.  Flashes of red cut across my vision, and arms grabbed at me from all sides.  I was on the stage now, moving in the opposite direction of the crowd.  Midge.  A deathly wail cut through the terrified murmurs, and it took me a few seconds to realize it was me.  My knees hit the ground hard, but it didn’t hurt.  Nothing hurt.  Everything hurt.  I reached for her, but arms pulled me back.

“Lydia, no!”

It was Midge, her body riddled with knives that pinned her to the wall.  Her head was tilted on her shoulder, like she was asleep.  More like she was crucified.  Chaos was erupting on all sides, and none of it mattered.  Nothing mattered if she was dead.  Midge.  Dead.  The words didn’t belong together.  She was only sixteen.

_“I am back from the dead.  All those who escaped me before will die.  B.H.”_

It wasn’t possible.  It couldn’t be possible.

Midge couldn’t be dead.

* * *

My eyes were fixed on the water rushing below me.  Chunks of ice kept breaking off the shore and were getting caught in the current.  My feet were dangling off the edge of the bridge—part of me wondered what it would feel like to jump off, to let the icy cold water envelop me, suck me into its depths.  They say that drowning is like falling asleep, and at that moment, falling asleep and never waking up sounded pretty damn good.

“I can’t stop seeing her,” Moose said, his voice low, barely loud enough to hear over the rushing water. “With all those knives.”

“I know.” My voice was as soft as his. “Me neither.” I swung my foot, watching as the dark black of my boot flew across the icy blue of the water. “It still doesn’t feel real.”

I looked over to see him shaking his head.  He had yanked off his tie, and it was hanging limply out of his pocket.  His eyes were heavy and dark, and the wind had blown any semblance of order from his hair.  “What are we going to do, Lyds?”

My eyes drifted back to the water, and I focused on one particular clump of ice that was sticking determinedly to the shore. “Well, we could jump off this bridge—make it the greatest tragedy Riverdale’s ever seen.” I scoffed. “Of course, Riverdale doesn’t seem to give much of a damn about dead teens these days.”

He gave me a skeptical look, his eyebrow cocking slightly. “You’ve got a damn dark sense of humor, Boyd.”

I rolled my eyes, wishing that I had the energy to smile. “I just lost my best friend, Mason.  Call it dark, call it psycho, call it denial, call it whatever you want, but I know I’m pretty screwed up right now.”

He bit his lip, running his hand through his hair and returning his gaze to the river below us.  “We literally just came from the funeral, Lydia.  How can you be in denial?”

“Are you saying there’s no part of you that’s just waiting for Midge to walk up to you—to tell you it was just a bad dream?  Because I sure as hell am.” I bit back another round of tears. “I guess my brain just can’t comprehend a world without my best friend.”

His fists were clenched tightly, and he paused, clearly unsure of how to respond. “I don’t know.  I guess it just makes sense to me.  In some sick way, this all makes too much fucking sense.”

“How the hell does an innocent teenager being brutally murdered in front of the entire town make any sense, Moose?  What about that makes _sense_?”

“We were going to break up,” he finally answered. “We had been talking about it on and off for weeks.” He exhaled slowly, his eyes narrowing as he tried to hold back tears. “She was sleeping with some Serpent.”

Ripping my gaze from the water, I turned to face him.  There was no possible way I had heard him right. “What are you talking about, Moose?”

“Midge.” His voice was flat. “She was cheating on me with a Serpent.  I didn’t find out until after she—” He cut off, the words sticking in his throat. “Until after.”

“No,” I asserted, my voice getting high and frantic. “No way.  Midge would never do that—she loved you, Moose.”

“That may have been true before, but we haven’t been okay in weeks.” He paused again. “I hooked up with Kevin, a few times actually.  She never found out, but she knew something was up.  It was the beginning of the end, and I don’t think we ever really got back to normal since.”

My mouth fell open, and it felt like the breath had been ripped out of me.  The damp breeze coming off the river felt suffocating “What?  What the _hell_ are you talking about?  Midge didn’t—Midge wouldn’t—she wouldn’t keep something like that from me.  Not me.” I backed away from him, my dress snagging slightly on the rough wood of the bridge.  I tried to get my feet under me, but they were too weak for me to stand. “We never kept secrets. Midge and I _never_ kept secrets from each other.”

“Clearly _she_ did.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me back into place next to him. “Now chill before you fall off the bridge, Lydia.  I don’t actually want to have to fish you out of the river today.”

I settled back into place next to him, my mind racing with images of her, of him and Moose. My eyes burned as a few tears hit the cold air. “She would never lie to me.”

“Lydia, I just—please stop.  She lied.  She wasn’t perfect.  Neither of us were.  We were both fucking liars and cheaters, and we both fucked up one of the greatest things to ever happen to us.” His voice cracked, and he looked about ready to cry. “I just wish we had more time.  Maybe we could have fixed it—made things right again.”

I dropped my head into my hands, tears flowing freely. “How could she keep that from me?”

“Probably the same way she kept it from me—by lying.  We’ll never know why.”

I barked out a rough laugh. “No, fuck that.  Midge and I have been friends since Kindergarten—we don’t keep things from each other.  She’s my best friend, she’s—” A sob ripped through me. “She’s my best friend, and now she’s gone, and I’ll never know why she did what she did.

“Hey, Lydia, it’s okay.” Moose’s voice was soft as he wrapped his arm around me. “It’s okay.  You’re okay.  We’re still here.” There was a sharp gust of wind, and I felt the beginnings of snowflakes starting to fall.

“But why are we here, Moose?  Why do we get to be here when she doesn’t?” I gasped hard, the air feeling like a punch to my gut. “Why did she have to die?”

“You’re the one who believes in God, Lydia.  Aren’t you supposed to have an answer for that?”

“I’m not so sure I want to believe in a God that lets serial killers exists.” I wiped my eyes. “And I definitely don’t want to believe in a God that let Midge die like that.” My breathing finally started to slow down, and I rested my head on his shoulder. “How can I?”

Moose shrugged. “I guess you don’t.” He pulled me close to him, sheltering me from the cold. “I guess all you can do is give up making sense of it and start trying to move on.”

“That sounds really hard.”

“Yeah, it does, but what choice do we have?”

“I guess we don’t.”

* * *

 

Reggie’s heart was racing as he shouldered his way through the crowd.  Everything was moving too fast—too chaotic.  Around him, everyone was shouting obscenities at the pack of Serpents trying to force their way through the crowd.

_For Midge._ He thought. _You’re doing this for Midge._

Sticking his hand in his pocket, he felt the cool metal surface of the gun Hiram Lodge had given him

“ _I won’t tell you what to do with it, Reggie.  Just know that it’s untraceable.”_

Everything was red.  He gripped the handle, pulling it slowly out of his pocket.

_Remember what that monster did to Midge.  Don’t you dare lose your fucking nerve._

He lifted the gun, and suddenly he was being thrown to the ground, a gunshot bursting through the air.  Everything moved in slow motion, and for a moment, the world was silent aside from the ringing in his ears.  His eyebrows knitted together—the gun had been knocked out of his hands, or so he thought.  When he looked up, Fangs was on the ground, a red circle of blood expanding across his torso.

_You shot him.  With a gun.  You just killed someone._

Archie was shouting now, yanking him off the ground and telling him to run.  Reggie couldn’t seem to think straight, but the movement of his feet came naturally, and he took off, shoving through the crown, the gun long-forgotten behind him.

_Murderer.  Killer.  Dead.  Fangs is dead._

It hadn’t been worth it.  Not for the money, not for the acceptance, not for revenge.  None of it was worth it.  He reached the edge of the crowd, and his legs stretched into a familiar sprint.  His heart was beating so fast that he feared he’d pass out.  His whole body was hot, shaky, and his mouth tasted like blood.

_There’s no coming back from this one, Reggie._

* * *

 

“Well, Mr. Mantle, it’s clear to me that you’re not a cold-blooded criminal.  You’re a kid, and you’ve made an incredibly stupid mistake.  So, on the misdemeanor charges of Attempted Third Degree Assault and Possession of an Unregistered Firearm, you, Mr. Reginald Mantle of Riverdale are found guilty.  Considering your age, record, and this court’s desire for rehabilitation rather than punitive measures, you are sentenced to the following: a ticket of five hundred and seventy-five dollars, a ticket of two hundred and fifty dollars, and one hundred hours of community service to be completed at any approved organization within the next six months.  Failure to meet the terms of this sentencing will result in further consequences.” The judge set down his paper and looked up at Reggie.  “Young man, you should be grateful for the leniency of this court.  I expect much better from you moving forward, and I never want to see you in my courtroom again.”

Reggie nodded, his lips pressed tightly shut. “Of course, sir.  Thank you.”

The grey-haired man held his gaze, his eyes hard. “Court dismissed.”

Reggie’s lawyer stood before him, urging him to his feet to shake his hand.  His stomach turned as he gripped the older man’s hand, barely able to shake it.  He got off easy—everyone knew it.  If his father wasn’t one of the richest men in upstate New York and able to hire the best criminal defense lawyer in the state, there was no way he’d have gotten off so easily.  He deserved to be in jail.  He knew it, and the rest of the world would know soon.

Moving on autopilot, Reggie stalked toward the courtroom door, ripping his tie off as he burst out of the building.  It was a beautiful day outside—the sun was shining, kids were playing, birds were singing, and he wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room and drink until everything felt okay again.  Of course, there was no chance of that happening.

“Reggie, man, wait up!”

He turned around to see Moose jogging towards him, still wearing his Letterman even though it had to be close to eighty degrees. “What?”

“Way to sprint out like a madman,” he said, slowing to a walk to match Reggie’s pace. “You just got off, dude.  No need to make the great escape.”

Reggie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know.  Rich dad bought my freedom.  I’m sure it’s all anyone will be saying once the news gets out.”

“I was going to say I’m glad my best friend isn’t being thrown in jail,” Moose replied hesitantly. “But yeah, that too, I guess.”

Reggie shook his head. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry.  Thanks.”

“Of course.” Moose tucked his hands in his pockets, watching his friend with a sideways glance. “Want to do something to take your mind off of it?”

He bit his lip, exhaling slowly.  Reggie knew that Moose was only partially offering for his sake.  It may have been months since Midge was killed, but he knew that a day didn’t go by that Moose wasn’t thinking about her.  Finally, he answered.  “Yeah, sure.  Beer and Xbox night at my place?”

“Sounds good.” Moose’s lips curved into a slight grin, and Reggie couldn’t help but smile back.  Of all people, he never thought he’d be friends with Moose Mason, yet here he was, the only person in the goddamn town who had even bothered to show up to his court date, the only person who gave a damn about something more than his father’s money.

Reggie shoved his tie in his pocket and unbuttoned the first two buttons on his stifling button-down. “Thanks for coming today, man.”

“’Course, Reg.” He looked down at his friend, his gaze softening. “I mean, you’ve stuck with me through a lot this year, and—” he cut off. “Sorry.  Too sappy.”

Reggie shrugged. “I know what you mean.” He stared down at his feet, trying to see anything other than blood.  Midge’s blood, Fangs’ blood, his own blood.  Blood was all he seemed to be able to think about these days. “How do you feel about getting absolutely trashed on a Monday?”

“There’s nothing I’d like more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this opening chapter is a bit short--I promise they'll be longer from here on out.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! This fic has been the center of my attention for a while now, and I’m absolutely thrilled (and hella nervous) to finally be sharing it. Your support is so immensely appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains a sex scene that, while consensual, is not pleasant or entirely pleasurable. There is alcohol involved, and both characters feel a lot of shame and regret afterwards. If this is something that you may find triggering or disturbing, please message me, and I will send you an edited/summarized version of the chapter.

“Lydia, Moose is here!”

I rolled over with a groan, unburying my face from my pillow and shouting back down the stairs. “Tell him I’m busy!”

“Lydia Tabitha Boyd, that would be lying, and I refuse to participate in it,” Mom shouted back, her voice getting faint as she walked away from the stairs. “I’m telling him that you’re here.”

Not bothering to sit up, I just lay there, running my hand through my hair in an attempt to smooth it out.  A moment later, Moose was bounding into my room, a huge smile on his face.  I dragged myself upright, shaking my head at him. “Why the heck do you look so cheerful?”

He smirked. “Because, Lydia _Tabitha_ Boyd, you and I are going to stop moping for one goddamn night and celebrate.”

I cocked an eyebrow, giving him my best _what-are-you-talking-about_ look. “What could we possibly have to celebrate?”

“The fact that we’re still alive, that school’s out, that the sun is shining.  Hell, we can even celebrate the fact that I somehow didn’t fail any classes this year.” He sat down on the foot of my bed, giving me a look that somehow radiated care and pain at the same time. “Lydia, it’s been two months, and you barely leave this room.  It’s okay to mourn—it’s normal, even healthy sometimes, but this going too far.  You need to start living again.”

“So my dad tells me every day.  I don’t care when he says it, nor do I care when you say it.  My only friend is dead, and I will stay in this room as long as I please.” I held his gaze, determined not to crack.

“Shut up, Lydia.  Get your ass up—you and I are getting drunk tonight.”

Rolling my eyes, I futilely tried to resist as my lips curved into a slight smile. “Fine.  Let’s do it.  Where are we going?”

“My place.” He grabbed my hands and pulled me up, nearly lifting me off the bed like I didn’t weigh a thing. “My parents are out of town for Molly’s volleyball tournament, and due to a lack of trust in my babysitting abilities, they left the little kids with my aunt.  I have the house to myself, and I intend to take full advantage of it.”

I slipped on shoes and shoved my hair into a ponytail. “With me?  Couldn’t you be off getting laid or throwing a party or something?”

He scoffed and started walking. “But you see, dear Lydia, that would imply I have any desire to get laid these days or that my house is at all suitable for a party.  Since I still can’t even look at most girls without thinking about Midge, and my house is way too small for a decent party, I’m stuck with you.”

“Hm, what an honor.” I smiled slightly at him as we made our way down the stairs. “You’re so full of it, Mason.  Just admit that you like hanging out with me, even without Midge.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever Boyd.” He waved a quick goodbye at my mom and held the door open for me. “Look, Midge had good taste in friends—I’ll give her that.”

“Not bad taste in boyfriends either,” I replied, squinting in the late afternoon sunlight.

He smiled softly, shoving me as we walked to his car. “Thanks for coming out, Lydia.  You really do need it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we both need it, and you better have some good alcohol for us.  I don’t drink, remember?”

“Everyone at Riverdale High drinks, Lydia.  The sooner you accept it, the sooner you’ll be on your way to making new friends.” He held open the door of his truck for me, and I climbed in. 

Since Midge died, I had spent a lot of time in that truck, and it had started to feel almost as familiar as my own car.  I kicked my feet up onto the dash, earning a disapproving look from Moose. “Who says that I need new friends? I’m doing pretty damn good without.”

“Me.  I’m telling you that you need more friends.” He climbed in the truck and started it. “Now let’s have some fun.”

* * *

 

“Okay, okay,” Moose laughed. “Fine.  My first kiss was with Josie, back when we were in Middle School.  It was absolutely terrible, and we never spoke about it again.  How about you, church girl?”

I rolled my eyes and took another big sip of my vodka-mountain dew. “It was at church camp, actually.  He was _not_ a pastor’s son, but he was just as religious as I was.  It was behind a cabin after lights out—typical middle school church kids crap.”

Shaking his head, Moose took another sip of his drink—a vodka-mountain dew that had a much higher ratio of vodka to soda than mine.  “Wow, Lydia, you’re too predictable.  I bet your first make-out was at the same camp, different boy, later that summer.  He didn’t get to cop a feel, but he did pop a boner, and you never spoke to him again since it scared you so much.”

I glared over my cup. “There’s no fucking way you knew that, Moose.  Midge told you, didn’t she?”

“Was I right?” His eyes lit up and he set down his cup to laugh. “Holy shit—I was joking, but I was right?”

“Shut up!” I tossed a throw pillow at him, trying not to laugh but failing miserably. “I was a sheltered church kid, and boners were kind of scary, okay?”

“Were or _are_?” He grinned lasciviously, throwing the pillow off the couch and scooting closer.

“Were,” I asserted, putting one finger on his broad chest to push him away. “Now you need to back off, Mr. Mason.”

He laughed and reached around me to grab the vodka.  Not taking his eyes off me, he refilled his cup. “You know, I hate when people go on about silver linings coming from tragedy, but I really do feel like getting to know you better has been a silver lining of this whole fucking thing.”

I nodded slowly, taking a sip of my own drink.  I had drunk enough that the vodka barely even had a taste anymore. “I get that—I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d take Midge back over being your friend any day, but I am glad we’re friends now.”

“Did Lydia Boyd just admit that we’re friends?” His legs pressed into mine, and his brown eyes were fixed on me. “Now that’s something I thought I’d never hear.”

My heart started to race, and there was a sudden burning feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was pretty sure wasn’t from drinking.  Moose’s eyes looked so warm, so inviting, but there was something else lurking there—something I couldn’t interpret.  “Moose, what are—”

“I don’t know, Lydia.” His voice was soft as his hand moved to my thigh.  On top of my leg, his hand looked huge. “All I know is that right now, here with you, I feel okay.  For the first time in fucking months, I feel okay again.”

I bit my lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. “Moose, you’re not thinking straight.” His hand drifted up my leg to my waist, and he pulled me close enough that I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You’re not—”

“I’m not afraid, Lydia.”

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Who ever said it had to?” His other hand moved to my cheek, stretching from nearly my ear to my shoulder. “Not everything has to mean something.  Sometimes, we just do things because we want to.”

My head felt light and buzzy as he leaned in closer, and I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the feeling of his hand pushing up the hem of my shirt to rest on my hip. “I don’t know what I want.”

“I do.” He leaned in and kissed me, his lips hungrily parting mine as he pulled me nearly onto his lap.  I instinctively spread my legs, straddling him and holding myself close. His lips dragged down my lips to my neck and then to my collarbones. “Tell me if you want me to stop, Lyds.  I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“Moose, I—oh my god.” My mouth fell open when he started sucking on the sensitive skin where my neck met my shoulder. “Holy shit.” I gripped his shoulders, holding him tightly to me.  My conscience was screaming at me to stop, to get off him, to run away.  My conscience wasn’t in control anymore, though. “Don’t stop.”

“Lift your arms,” he ordered, sliding my shirt up my body and pulling it off.  His lips returned to my chest, kissing and licking the skin around my bra.  Goosebumps spread across my body, and my hips bucked forward as the fire in my gut started to spread. “Holy fucking hell, you’re beautiful, Lydia.” His hands moved to the clasp of my bra.

“Moose, I shouldn’t—”

He pulled back, grabbing my face and forcing me to look at him. “Shouldn’t or don’t want to?  It’s just sex, Lydia.  It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

 _Sex._ The word made me shiver violently—with desire or fear, I wasn’t sure.  He was still staring at me, those damn brown eyes so familiar, so comforting.  In the past few months, he had been my only friend, the only person who seemed to understand even a fraction of what I was going through.  He wouldn’t hurt me.  He _couldn’t_ hurt me.  Unsure if I would regret it later, I nodded.

His gaze was hooded as he nodded back. “You don’t have to be scared of me, Lydia.”

“I’m not, Moose.” I leaned in and kissed him again, surprisingly myself with my own forwardness.  I pushed my hips into his, feeling his hardness growing beneath me.  The heat radiating through me had spread all the way to my fingertips, and there was a lump growing in my throat.  Moose broke his lips away from mine and pulled me off his lap to tug his own shirt off.  Then, he got to work on my jean shorts, unzipping them and tossing them onto the floor. 

“Shit, Lyds,” he groaned, rubbing the front of my panties to feel the wet spot that had formed there. “Been too long for you too, hasn’t it?”

All I could do was whimper and buck my hips.  His touch felt too good— _sinfully_ good.  I gripped the couch, the material rough below my fingertips, and the ache in my stomach was starting to feel like nausea.  The alcohol running through me didn’t feel so good any more.  Swallowing it down, I pulled him close for another kiss.

Moose grunted as he took his own jeans off—yanking them down with his boxers in one motion.  He crawled back on top of me, dragging my panties down my thighs with a low moan and rubbing his thumb over my clit. “Fuck, Lydia, are you sure you still want to do this?”

Pleasure shot though me, and everything blurred. “Yeah,” I gasped. “I do.” Gripping his shoulders, I held him close, desperate for more contact.  I needed him to distract me from myself. “Kiss me, Moose.”

He pressed his lips into mine as he lined himself up with my entrance.  He started pushing in slowly, never taking his mouth off mine. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

Moaning into his mouth, I tried not to wince painfully. I wanted to say something, but I cut off with a strained moan as he pushed in another few inches.  Every part of me felt like it was tingling, like I had been struck by lightning.  His hips were pressed into my thighs, and I realized that he was all the way in.  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore everything but the feel of his lips sucking on my neck.  His touch was slow and soft, and I was reasonably sure that he could sense my discomfort.  Then, he started thrusting, and no distraction could ease the burning between my legs.  I tensed, clinging to his shoulders, and he moaned loudly.

“Holy shit, babe, yes.  Fuck, oh my _fucking_ god.” He gripped my hips hard enough to leave bruises and picked up a merciless rhythm. 

I bit my lip as the pain started to fade.  Every part of me ached for more contact.  The way he was thrusting into me was still uncomfortable, but I wanted more.  I needed more.  I needed him to finish, for me to be the one to make him finish.  Desperately, I clung to his shoulders, pressing my face into his shoulder and praying that he didn’t see me wince.  A few rough thrusts later, he thrust in deep, a low groan escaping his lips as he finished inside me.  Breathing heavy, he dropped me back onto the couch, his face red.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed. “You’re on the pill, right?”

I nodded, my eyes still squeezed shut as a wave of nausea flowed through me.  My skin felt hot and clammy, and everything ached. “Yeah.”

“Fuck, Lydia, are you okay?” His tone quickly switched to one of concern, and I could hear the sound of material moving as he put his boxers back on.  Around me, the room seemed to be spinning, and my throat was too dry to say what I wanted to.

“Just drunk,” I answered, cautiously opening my eyes and doing my best not to make eye contact with the Moose-shaped blur in my vision. “Like, really drunk.”

“You sure?” He ran his hand tenderly through my hair, forcing me to look at him. “Lydia, you look like you’re going to be sick.”

“Oh, I am.” Lurching off the couch, I sprinted to the bathroom.  Somehow, I managed to lift the toilet seat just in time to hit the ground before throwing up.  I had on nothing but the bra Moose had never gotten around to taking off, and I could feel something wet dripping down my thighs.  My knees throbbed with pain from hitting the tile so hard, and everything burned as I forced out what had obviously been way too much vodka and pizza.  A sob wracked through me as I puked, and before I knew it, Moose was there, holding my hair and wrapping a towel around me.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, rubbing my back. “You’re okay.”

I rested my arms on the cool porcelain as I heaved a few more times.  My chest and throat were burning, but the nausea had mostly faded.  Sobbing, I slipped off the toilet and back into a seated position.  Moose quickly grabbed a washcloth, getting my face cleaned off and handing me a little paper cup of water.  I drank greedily, finishing a few cups before I had to sense to pull my hair into a proper ponytail.  Then, I tugged the towel tighter around me and crumpled into Moose’s arms.  My whole body was shaking, and my throat felt like it had swollen shut.

“Alright, Lydia, c’mere.” He tried to help me to my feet with little success before scooping me up and carrying me back to the couch.  His eyebrows were furrowed together by concern as he helped me get my panties and t-shirt back on. “Lydia,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Was that your first time?”

I barely had the energy to nod.  My head had started pounding, and everything felt slightly blurry. “Yeah.”

“Shit, Lyds, fuck.  Why didn’t you— _fuck_.  I’m so fucking sorry.  I—”

I shook my head. “Stop, Moose.  I wanted to.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s why you puked right after.”

“I’ve also never drank that much at once.”

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed, standing up to pace and run his hand through his hair. “Fucking hell, Lydia.  If I knew, I’d have done it differently, better.  Shit.” He looked up at me with a start. “You are on the pill, right?”

“I didn’t lie to you, Moose.” I sat up straighter, pulling a throw blanket around myself in an attempt to ease the shivering. “And I didn’t lie that I wanted to either.”

“Still, though.” He sat down next to me, looking at me with such deep concern that I almost wanted to cry again. “Were you—”

“Saving myself for marriage?” I shrugged, blinking back a fresh wave of tears. “Maybe when I believed in God, but now, no.  I guess I just had to see what I was missing.”

He was shaking his head, scooting closer to me to pull me close. “Lydia, you still believe in God.  You may not want to, but you do.”

“Well then, maybe he doesn’t believe in me anymore.”  I laced my hand with Moose’s. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Stop being sorry, Lydia.”

“I’m trying.”

* * *

 

 “Sorry I’m just such a fucking disappointment, Dad!” Reggie shouted, his fists clenched at his sides. “Even your fancy-ass lawyer could only do so much for my miserable ass.”

“You shut the fuck up,” he bellowed back.  Martin Mantle was a big man—taller than Reggie and at least twenty pounds heavier.  Stuffed into his usual business suit, though, it was hard to really see his stature.  That is, until he was sizing up over someone, his fists clenched and his face red. “You are a fucking disappointment.  How the hell do you go from captain of the football team to common criminal?  I didn’t raise you for this shit, Reggie.”

Reggie’s posture matched his father’s—stiff with rage and ready to throw a punch. “No, you’re right.  You didn’t raise me for this shit—you didn’t raise me at all, really.”

“Didn’t raise you?  Who the hell do you think put food on the table, a roof over your head?”

“You may have funded it, but I sure as hell haven’t ever seen you put on a plate on the table.”

“Enough!” Melinda snapped, standing up from the table and using her stiletto heels to her advantage to pull herself up to her husband’s height. “From both of you.  This fighting nonsense is just that—nonsense.  Reggie is not a common criminal, and you have been a fine father, Marty.  There we have it.  Now, we need to get back to the task at hand—where Reggie does his community service.” She looked between the two of them, her gaze steely. “And _neither_ of you are going to raise your voices.”

“I still think cleaning parts at the main garage would be good for him,” Martin muttered, walking over to his ostentatious, hand-carved liquor cabinet to pour a glass of his favorite brandy. “Teach him some work ethic.”

Melinda rolled her eyes. “Marty, we’ve been over this.  The dealership is not a non-profit—quite the opposite, actually.” Her lips curved into a smirk as she admired her newest diamond tennis bracelet. “So that’s not going to work.”

“Then what is going to work?” Reggie asked, plopping back down at the table and grabbing a piece of food from his plate to toss to the dog—a tiny brown dachshund named Vader that both his parents disapproved of. “You donate to like a zillion charities, Mom, could I do something for one of them?”

She gave the dog an unamused look as he happily chomped down the piece of chicken. “Of course, I do, Reggie, but I think it would be wiser for you to work for someone in Riverdale, to help rehab your image, of course.”

“Rehab my image?” He scoffed. “My image is just fine.”

“Maybe in the eyes of your idiot friends,” Martin said, his voice gruff. “But all I’m hearing at work every day is how little I seem to be able to control my own idiot son.  Your image needs a hell of a lot more rehabbing than throwing on some coat so that the poor kids can come back to school.”

 Reggie rolled his eyes and tossed the dog another piece of food. “Yeah, sure, whatever.  Where am I going then?”

“I propose Riverdale Community Church,” Melinda replied, sitting up straighter and setting down her phone for a moment. “The Pastor there, Pastor Boyd, is a solid, well-respected community man.  Everyone in Riverdale loves him, even the non-religious people.  Working for him would earn you big points in the eyes of the town.”

“Church?” Reggie asked, giving his mom a skeptical look. “Since when are you religious?”

“I’m not, but I still attend at least two Sundays a month.  It’s not about beliefs, Reggie, it’s about perception.  See and be seen.  You don’t think the Coopers go every week because they love Jesus do you?  No, of course not.  They go because Alice is a master of perception.” She held her son’s gaze, her brown eyes meeting his own with a surprising amount of warmth. “You need to learn to play the game better, Reggie.  You have a lot going for you—looks, talent, money—but you’re going to waste it all if you can’t maintain your image.” She glanced at her husband, a brief flicker of pain flashing across her expression and disappearing just as quickly. “Image is everything.”

Biting his lip and trying not to say something he’d regret, Reggie nodded. “Fine, yeah, image is everything.  Got it.  So, the church.  Riverdale Community.  What will I be doing?”

“We’ll have to talk to Pastor Boyd this weekend to find out.  I can’t imagine that he’d turn down free labor, though.  I’ll put in a call, and we can go in on Sunday to meet him and work out the details.  Sound good?”

“Sounds fine to me,” he groaned, tipping back on two legs of his chair to scratch the dog’s head. “Any complaints, Dad?”

Martin glared over the top of his phone.  His brandy was still in hand. “Many, but none regarding that.  Your mother’s a smart woman when it comes to this kind of stuff, Reggie, and you’d be wise to take her advice more often.”

“Yeah, sure.  Can I go now?”

“Please do.”

Melinda rolled her eyes again. “I’ll talk to you after I talk to the Pastor.”

“Yup.” He was already out of his chair, starting towards the stairs. “Vader, come on.”

The little dog took a final look at the food left out on the table before following him up the stairs.  When they got to his room, Reggie slammed the door behind him, scooping up Vader and pulling him onto the bed with him.

“Buddy, is it wrong of me to work at a church even though I don’t believe in God?”

Vader gave him a quizzical look, cocking his head to the side.

“Same, man.  Same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this chapter includes some crude, sexual language

“So, Lydia,” Dad mused, “been spending a lot of time with that Mason kid lately, haven’t you?”

My gut clenched, and it took all the focus I had to finish chewing my bit of food.  Finally, I managed a small nod. “Yup.”

Mom gave me a sympathetic look. “Is that hard?  I mean, you and him—”

“Were closest to Midge, yeah, I’m aware.”

“Lydia,” Dad threatened. “Watch your tone.”

I looked up from my plate of lame spaghetti to look at him.  His green eyes matched my own, an almost impossible feat considering my brown-eyed mom.  I thought about that too much—how only two percent of the human population had green eyes, and we were both members of that two percent.  People always said that I was so lucky to have inherited his eyes, like it was some sort of gift that my life wouldn’t be the same without.  All I could see when I looked at his eyes was how different they were from mine.  While his somehow radiated warmth and love, mine always seemed hard and cold.  His were best described as a forest, fresh-cut grass, everything lush and inviting about nature.  Mine were more like jade—pretty to look at, but mostly lifeless these days.

“Lydia, did you hear him?  Answer your father.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sorry Dad, what’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you hanging out with Moose is for the best.  I know you two bring each other a lot of comfort, but how long is that healthy?  You need to move on you know.”

I bit my lip, trying to keep my tone under control. “Well, don’t worry too much, Dad.  We kind of haven’t been hanging out as much lately.”

“Why’s—”

“I’m hoooooome!” The door flung open, filling the house with what could only be described as chaos.  The cat flew across the room, screeching like it had just been shot.  Mom flew off her chair, rushing to pull her son into a hug.  Dad just smiled, finally distracted from his troubled daughter by his golden son.

“Noah!” Mom gushed, kissing him on the cheek. “I’m so glad you’re finally home, sweetie.”

“Aw, thanks, Mom,” he laughed, hugging her tightly. “Glad I’m home—I could seriously go for a meal not made in a dining hall.”

Dad got up, next, shaking his hand and giving a brief, ever-so-masculine hug. “Good to have to home, son.”

Then, Noah turned his gaze on me.  Now he had won the genetic lottery—Dad’s green eyes and blond hair on a face approximately thirty years younger and with an aptitude for football instead of Bible Study.    

“How’s it going, Lyds?”

Rolling my eyes, I got up to hug him, allowing him to hold me closer than Mom or Dad ever did. “Not too bad.”

“Liar,” he whispered, his voice too low for out parents to hear. “Later, though.”

I pulled away, my stomach already started to clench into knots. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Want some dinner, Noah?” Mom asked. “I made spaghetti.”

He gave me an inquisitive look over her shoulder, and I shrugged noncommittally.  He smirked and then nodded. “Yeah, I’ll have some.”

Grabbing my still mostly-full plate, I made my way from the dining room to the attached kitchen. “I’ll grab it.”

“Thanks, Lydia!” Mom called.  She immediately got to work questioning Noah on everything from his end of semester grades to the upcoming football season to his off-campus apartment next year.  I was glad to be away from it. 

Moving as slow as I could get away with, I scraped the remains of my dinner into the trash and got to work making Noah a new plate.  Once I felt I sufficiently loaded it with pasta, meatballs, and garlic bread, I walked back into the kitchen, setting it down in front of him.

“Mind if I head up to my room for a while?” I asked.   

Mom gave me a concerned look. “You barely ate, sweetheart.  Are you feeling okay?”

“I think so,” I replied, doing my best to smile. “Just ate a really big lunch when I was hanging out with Kevin earlier.”

She nodded, looking convinced enough. “Okay, hon.  Just let me know if you need anything or want me to warm up some leftovers.”

“Will do.” Avoiding Noah’s concerned look, I darted toward the stairs, side-stepping the still pissed-off cat and ducking into my room.  The room was small, still pink from when five-year-old me was given the choice of colors.  The ceiling was low and slanted, like it was originally meant to be an attic.  The house was provided by the church, though, so I was certainly not in a place to complain.  I crashed onto the bed, burying my face in my pillow and doing my best not to cry.  As usual, I failed.

“Lydia, let me in,” he said, not even bothering to knock. “Please.”

I rolled over and grabbed my phone—nearly fifteen minutes had passed, plenty of time for him to eat and get thoroughly sick of talking to our parents. “Fine.” Not bothering to fix my hair, I sat up.

His green eyes narrowed in concern when he saw me. “That’s not a good look.”

“No crap.”

He smirked. “Now there’s that barely visible smile I love so much.” He sat down at the foot of the bed to look at me. “Talk to me, Lyds.”

I shrugged. “What can I say?  Some days I miss Midge more than others.  Today was one of those days.”

“Not calling you a liar, but that sure as hell isn’t the whole story.”

“I don’t know if I have enough words to tell the whole story.  My best friend, who was sixteen, was murdered by a serial killer in front of my very eyes.  If that’s not enough to screw me up, I don’t know what is.” I shook my head, hating that the words barely even stung anymore. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.”

Cautiously, he reached over and took my hand in his. “No, you probably won’t.  Something else is going on though, Lydia.  You seemed to be getting better, like hanging out with Moose was good for you, but now—”

“But now everyone seems to think they’re welcome to psychoanalyze my every move!” I snapped, yanking my hand away from his and sliding off the bed. “Come on, am I not allowed to mourn like a normal person anymore?  You don’t get better all at once, Noah, so I don’t know why everyone expects it from me!”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Sorry, Lydia, damn, didn’t know I touched a nerve.” He slid off the bed and started toward the door. “I’m home until July, so let me know when you’re ready to talk without biting my head off.”

“Yeah, whatever, Noah.  Close the door behind you.” I watched until the door was pulled shut, and then the tears started to fall all over again.  For a moment, I just stood there, letting the little sobs wrack through my body as I thought about everything—Moose, Midge, and then Moose all over again.  The way his hands felt as they ran over my body, the way his lips felt on mine, but mostly the way the guilt felt like a physical pain in my chest, like my heart had turned into stone and was slowly sinking into my stomach.

I needed to get out of there.

In a move that I hadn’t used since middle school, I yanked open my window and looked down.  The massive oak tree was the same as always, barely brushing against my window with a few flimsy branches.  I was heavier, of course, and probably a lot less coordinated, but that was a risk I was willing to take.  As I looked down, the whole tree seemed to be swaying in the wind.  Seeing as that was probably my imagination, though, I took a deep breath and pulled my hair back into a ponytail.  Then, I pushed on the window again, assuring that it was all the way open.  Moving awkwardly, I shoved my feet out the window, ignoring the pain as the wooden frame dug into my hips.  Finally, I got myself out onto the roof.  It was steeper than I remembered, slipperier too, and I clutched the window frame for support.  Shooting up a quick prayer that the Lord still had more planned for me, I pushed off the window and jumped.

“Mother—”

I slammed hard into a branch, nearly knocking the wind out of me as I scrambled to grab onto something, anything, to slow my journey toward the ground.  I managed to cling to a semi-sturdy branch, my palms scraping hard against the rough bark.  The whole tree was shaking, and my breath was ragged.  I froze, praying that no one had heard or saw me.  When a moment passed, and no one came shouting, I started to move, slowly lowering myself from branch to branch until I was close enough to the ground to drop.  My ankle stung from hitting the ground harder than planned, and I was shaking slightly, but I had made it.

“Praise the Lord,” I muttered when my feet were firmly under me. “I’m way too old for that.” Glancing behind me, I took off at a quick walk across the yard to the church.  The building was dark, as to be expected for a Saturday night, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind it would be locked.  Regretting my lack of foresight to grab a key, I slipped around to the back, to the rickety window attached to the old choir office.  Dad had been talking about getting it fixed, but it had never been enough of a security risk to bother.  Of all of Riverdale’s ludicrously extreme crimes, breaking and entering wasn’t usually much of a problem

With a fierce combination of determination, a few sharp sticks, and a big-ish rock to stand on, I managed to pry the window open and slip myself in.  Sneaking out of my house to break into a church—the irony was painful.

Breathing in the familiar scent of old choir robes, I snuck through the darkened hallways until I was standing in the sanctuary.  As always, the sanctuary candle, secretly a lamp since ever-burning candles were a fire hazard, was lit, casting an eerie red glow on the empty room.  Staring at the carpet, I walked toward the front of the room, only looking up when my feet finally bumped into the single stair that separated the sanctuary from the altar. 

When I looked up at the statue of Jesus, his whole face was covered in a red glow.  I gulped hard.  It looked like blood.

Growing up, I had heard my dad preach a thousand times about why Jesus died.  _For our sins_ , he would say.  Whatever that meant.  _Lay your sins at His feet_ , he said.  _The Lord died so that we don’t have to feel guilt or shame_ , he’d say, _so that we could live free from our transgressions._

Well then, why did all my transgressions feel like the weight of the world?

“I guess I should be asking you that.” I directed my observation at the bloody statue. “If you died for me, why do I still feel so horrible?”

The cool stone face stared back down at me, his eyes empty and his features too perfect.  I scoffed.  Why did Christians have such an obsession with making Jesus’s crucifixion look so damn pretty?  I had seen it firsthand, seen what a body looked like stretched out and riddled with holes, hands out in the image of eternal sacrifice.  Only Midge didn’t die for anyone’s sins, no one’s but her own.

“I can’t believe we lost our virginity to the same guy, Midge.  I mean, I was shocked enough when you told me that you slept with him.  I can only imagine what your face would look like if I ever told you I did the same.” I shook my head, unable to rip my eyes away from the stone ones staring back down at me. “I wonder if it’s true, what Moose said, that I couldn’t stop believing in you if I tried.  I really don’t know how you could believe in me, though.  I’ve changed too much, done too much.  I’m not the person you used to know.”

From my pocket, my phone vibrated.  Ripping my gaze away from the stone, I looked down to see a text from Moose.

“Maybe you’re still doing something, after all.”

* * *

 

The bass was booming through the house, and alcohol was running through his veins.  Around him, desperate girls hung all over horny guys, flashing their cleavage like it was their sole goal in life to get laid.  Bright strobe lights pierced the darkness, illuminating the kids hiding in the corner doing their best to smoke a joint for the first time.  He lifted his cup to his lips, and smirked.  For the first time in weeks, Reggie Mantle felt normal. 

“Fuck man, it’s good to see you back in the world of the fucking living,” Chuck laughed, barely holding his beer upright as he pushed through the crowd to his friend. “It’s been too damn long, man.”

Reggie shrugged, finally taking a sip of his lukewarm beer. “What can I say?  Can only do so much when your dad’s got you on house arrest.”

“Fair enough man, fair enough.  You’re here now, though, and you’ve fallen behind, my friend.” Chuck had that grin that signaled he was up to no good, and Reggie was ready for it.

“Fallen behind?”

“On the new freshman, dude.  Tons of desperate, attention-seeking girls who’d love nothing more than to suck some upperclassmen cock.  Sloppy as fuck, yeah, but damn if their enthusiasm doesn’t make up for it.”

Reggie cringed into his cup.  Chuck had always had a way with words, and being away from it for so long had him going soft. “Yeah, man.”

Chuck smirked, so drunk that it came off as more of a grimace. “May I recommend a few choice selections?”

Rolling his eyes, Reggie downed the rest of his beer. “I think I’ve got it.” He ducked around Chuck and toward the keg to refill his cup.  Once it was full, he took a sip and got to work.

* * *

 

“Molly, right?”

The blonde giggled, twirling a lock of her perfectly-curled hair around her freshly-manicured finger.  She was wearing a denim miniskirt that looked more uncomfortable than sexy, and her pink crop top looked like it was borrowed from an older, bustier sister.  A freshman, for sure. “That’s me.”

“Reggie,” he offered, putting on his most charming smile, the one that had gotten more than a few girls into his bed.

Her plastered-on smile faded slightly, and she made nervous eye contact with her slightly more sober-looking friend. “As in Reggie Mantle?”

“Yup,” he replied, already preparing himself for what was certainly coming.

“I—um—I think I need to go find my friend.  Sorry.” She scurried away, grabbing her friend’s hand and glancing back at him like he might try to chase her.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, finishing off what had to be at least his fifth beer.

“Was that the third or fourth?” Moose asked as he joined him.  He was doing his best not to laugh, but he couldn’t keep his lips from curving into a smile.

“Fifth, at least,” Reggie replied, crumpling his red solo cup with a sigh. “And three of them were freshman.”

“Damn, dude, you know you’re doing bad when freshman reject you.  Hell, I’ve even had a few all over me.” He leaned back on the wall and took another sip of his beer. “I suppose having the dead-girlfriend sob story works wonders on impressionable young underclassman, though.”

Reggie glared, wishing he was drunk enough to throw a punch without considering the consequences. “One more word, and I’m knocking your lights out, Moose.”

Moose chuckled, tossing his empty cup in the trash. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Where are we going?”

“I was thinking Pop’s.  I could go for a burger.”

“Me fucking too.”

* * *

 

“Talk to me, man, how does it feel to fall from grace?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Reggie snapped, taking a bite of his burger. “Fall from grace?  Is that some religious shit?”

Moose rolled his eyes and took a sip of his shake. “No, just a dumb joke.  For real, though, your ability to scam girls into your bed is like your third-greatest asset after your throwing arm and your car, so what gives?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Moose gave him a skeptical look. “No way you’re that dense, dude.”

“Fine, yeah, they all think I attempted murder, I get that.  I just didn’t realize people would take it so fucking seriously.  I was cleared of most charges.” Reggie’s stomach turned as he spoke.  He didn’t know why he’d think anyone else was over it when he sure the hell wasn’t. “Whatever about that, though.  I’ll bounce back.  What about you, dude?  I notice you’re still sexless.”

Moose’s whole body tensed, and he swallowed hard before answering. “What are you implying?”

“Implying?  More like stating.  You haven’t even gone for a rebound since Midge died.  I was just wondering if it was by choice, or—”

“Yeah, it’s by choice,” he snapped. “Not that that’s any of your business.”

“Damn, dude, relax.  I was just saying—it’s bad enough that you won’t own up to Kevin, much less—“

“Kevin?” Moose slammed his glass on the table, making everything else shake. “What the fuck does Kevin have to do with anything?”

“It’s not like I didn’t know, man.  I mean, c’mon, you’re my best friend.”

“Really?  Because I feel like best friends don’t get pushy and nosy about shit when someone makes it clear they don’t want to talk about it.” Moose was nearly shaking now. “Kevin and I haven’t talked in a long-ass time, okay?”

“Yeah, man, fine, whatever.” Reggie held his hands up in surrender. “Fine.  I’ll drop it.  I’m here when you want to talk, though.”

“Sure.” Moose still looked uneasy, and Reggie couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that it really wasn’t about Kevin. “Need a ride home?”

“Probably.  All I need’s a drinking ticket before I even start my community service.”

“Alright, man.  I got you.” Moose pulled out some cash to leave on the table for a tip, and then he turned to is friend. “Sorry for being weird.”

“Everything’s weird these days,” Reggie muttered. “I’m sorry, too.”

“No big, man, really.”

* * *

 

As was almost always the case, Reggie came home to a silent house.  It was Saturday, meaning that Dad was spending the night with his latest mistress and Mom was either sleeping or passed out.  At least he knew he could count on Vader to greet him at the door.

“Hey bud,” he said, crouching down to scratch the little dog’s smooth head. “Did Theresa let you out already?”

When the dog did nothing but wiggle with joy, Reggie couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t know what the hell I’d do without you, bud.” He didn’t bother to kick off his shoes before starting up the grand staircase to the second floor of the massive mansion.  Vader followed close at his heels, nudging his legs to encourage more petting.

Reggie closed his door behind him, peeling off layers of clothes until all he had on was boxers.  Then, he flopped onto the bed, encouraging Vader to jump up with him. “So, Vader, what do you think?  What the fuck is up with Moose?”

Vader gave him a quizzical look and then rested his little head on his arm.

“Unhelpful, man.  Really, though, something’s up.” He sighed, absentmindedly running his fingers up and down Vader’s back.  Of course, he had his ideas what was up with Moose, but they were too terrifying to put into words.  If Moose knew the truth, the real reason why he’d gone to the sheriff’s station with the gun that night, he would never forgive him.  If he knew the real reason they’d become friends, things would never be the same.

He rolled over, yanking the covers out of their perfectly-made position to crawl underneath.  Taking the hint, Vader scooted to his usual place at the foot of the bed.  As he settled into place, wrapped in layers of too-expensive sheets and down comforters, he couldn’t get his mind off it—whatever _it_ was—that had made his night so weird.  From the girls, to Moose, to that goddamn image of Fangs that he couldn’t ever seem to shake, everything was floating through his mind.

It was a lot like counting sheep. 

Only the sheep were faces of everyone he’d hurt.

And he couldn’t ever seem to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!! More chapters are on the way!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No major warnings.

My brain was on autopilot as I taught Sunday School.  Apparently, I had done it enough times that everything from the craft, to the lesson, to the game all came naturally.  Luckily, the kids weren’t even that energetic—probably because my zombie-like state was contagious.  After what felt like hours, the lesson finally wrapped, and I was able to dismiss them to their parents.  Still in an exhausted trance, I cleaned up the classroom, sweeping bits of cut-up paper into the garbage and assuring the lids were clicked tightly onto every marker.           

Part of me regretted staying up so late at the church the night before, but I was also realistic enough to know that this was going to be the new norm for me.  Stay up late, unable to fall asleep, sleep most of the day, repeat.  At least now that it was summer, I didn’t have to worry about getting up to go to school.  Most days, I could just lie in bed for a few hours, ignoring my parents and Noah when they told me it was time to get out of bed and get a life.

Eventually, the room was cleaned to my satisfaction, and I knew it was time for me to go upstairs and face everyone for church. I clicked off the lights and started to walk back upstairs.  Before I could make it to my usual spot in the front pew, though, Dad called me over.

“Lydia,” he called, his voice taking on that tone of Pastor Boyd, the serene, stern, fatherly figure that radiated calm and warmth.  It made me sick.

“Yeah, Dad?” I walked over, and my jaw nearly dropped.  Reggie Mantle.  Reggie Mantle was standing next to my dad, stuffed into what looked like an immensely expensive designer suit.  He had a look on his face like he’d rather be anywhere else.  That is, until he saw me.  My heart started racing—Reggie was Moose’s best friend.  Sure, Moose and I had sworn never to speak of what happened between us again, but I couldn’t help but be overcome with immense dread that he knew.  Why else would he be looking at me with such interest?  Why else would his eyes be so fixed on me like that?

“Lydia,” Dad said more sharply. “Did you hear me?”

“Shoot, no.  I’m sorry, Dad.” I ripped my gaze away from Reggie and to my father.  He was standing next to a woman who could only be Reggie’s mom.  She was tall, with perfectly curled brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a figure that did not belong on the mother of a teenager.  Her dress was immaculate, more expensive than my entire wardrobe put together, but understated enough so as not to stand out.  “What’s up?”

“Mr. Mantle here is going to be completing his court-ordered community service here at Riverdale Community,” Dad answered, glancing between Reggie and me, his eyes narrowing perceptively. “And since I’ve been so busy lately with homebound ministry and planning for the mission trip, I’m going to ask you to oversee his work.”

Years of practice holding my tongue in front of parishioners was the only thing that kept me from questioning him with a few choice words right there. “Oh, I—um, okay.”

He nodded slowly, sensing my hesitation but unable to place the source of it. “Glad you’re on board, Lydia.  We can talk more about his specific tasks later, but I wanted to make sure you knew, _and_ make sure the two of you have met before.”

“Yeah, we’ve met,” I managed. “Mutual friends and all.”

Reggie’s lips curved into a half-grin.  Clearly, he found my awkwardness funny.  I clenched my jaw, trying not to let my discomfort show.

“Well thank you so much, Pastor,” Mrs. Mantle said, shaking his hand. “And Lydia.  This really does mean a lot to us.”

Reggie rolled his eyes, still kind of grinning at me. “Yeah, _loads_.”

I inhaled sharply, trying not to freak out.  He knew.  He had to know.  He knew what I had done, what kind of person I was.  My heart was beating even faster now, and despite never having a panic attack before, I could swear one was coming on.  “Dad, I, um—I need to talk to Mom.  Have you seen her?” My words came out in a sputtered rush, and there was no doubt that Reggie and his mom noticed.

“I believe she’s in the front of the sanctuary,” he said, looking mildly suspicious but not wanting to question me in public. “Thanks for chatting with us.”

“Yup, of course!” I darted off as quickly as I could without looking like a complete lunatic.  Once I was out of sight, though, I made a hard turn for the old choir office—the one I had broken into the night before that was just used for storage.  I crashed onto the floor, not even caring that it probably hadn’t been vacuumed in a decade, and started sobbing. 

There was no way Reggie didn’t know.  No way that everyone wouldn’t know soon.  All my mistakes were coming back to haunt me, and all I wanted was to talk to Midge.  Of course, if Midge was alive for me to talk to, I wouldn’t have gotten myself in this mess in the first place.

* * *

 

The second church ended, I texted Moose begging him to meet me at Pop’s.  His response was almost immediate.

_Be there in ten._

Ignoring my father’s complaints, I completely skipped out on coffee hour—the time when everyone stood around and socialized over mediocre fair-trade coffee and homemade pastries.  Normally, it was one of my favorite parts of Sunday morning, but at that moment, my head was spinning to fast to enjoy anything.  I couldn’t think straight knowing that Reggie Mantle was there, that Reggie Mantle might know what I had done. 

When I got to Pop’s, Moose was already sitting in our usual booth, a burger in front of him and fries and a strawberry milkshake for me.  My heart fluttered at the sight—despite everything that had happened between us, he was still the best friend I had right now.  I sat down, my lips turning up in a small smile despite my best efforts to keep a straight face.  “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

His eyebrows furrowed together. “And here I thought you were the smart one in this friendship.”

“Wait, what?  What do you mean?”

“I mean, Lydia, that although what happened between us was deeply uncomfortable and potentially a huge mistake, it’s not like I hate you or something.” He gave me a look so soft that I couldn’t doubt it was genuine. “I’m not about to attempt to talk you out of whatever it is you’re feeling, but you need to know that it’s seriously okay.”

I picked up a fry and started picking at it absentmindedly. “I wouldn’t use the word _okay_ , but okay.” I smirked slightly, and then my face dropped. “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to about, though.”

“I figured—I mean, you’ve been ghosting me since.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, taking a sip of my shake while I attempted to gather my thoughts. “Thanks for the food, by the way.”

“No big.  Now, are we going to talk or are you going to keep staring at your fries awkwardly?” His tone was light, and I couldn’t help but smile again.  Moose had a way of making everything feel okay when, in fact, nothing was okay.

“We really do need to talk.” I thought about Reggie, about the weirdly fixated way he looked at me.  My voice came out barely above a whisper. “Did you tell Reggie?”

“What?  No, of course not.” He set down his burger to clench his fists. “Why would you think that?”

“Dang, no need to bite my head off, dude.  I just got weird vibes from him at church today—he’s doing his community service at the church, you know.”

“Yeah, I heard.” Relaxing, he took another bite of his burger. “I wouldn’t read too much into it—Reggie likes girls a _lot_.  He was probably just checking you out.”

My jaw fell open, and I shook my head. “ _What?_ Why the hell would Reggie Mantle be checking me out?”

“Maybe because you’re actually attractive, Lydia,” Moose replied, trying not to laugh at my befuddled expression. “You don’t seem to see it, but you are.  Reggie’s been rejected by ninety percent of the girls at Riverdale High already—it’s not really a shock he’d go for you too.”

Something in Moose’s tone felt off, almost accusatory, but I couldn’t tell if it was directed at me, Reggie, or himself.  “I really think there’s more to it than that, Moose.  And if there isn’t, he’s in for a rude awakening.”

Moose’s eyes lit up in a silent laugh. “And why’s that, Boyd?”

“While my recent behavior may suggest otherwise, I’m still not some easy, desperate girl who’ll fall onto my knees for him just because he has abs and nice hair.”

“Abs and nice hair?” Moose was holding back a laugh. “Man, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a crush.”

I rolled my eyes and took a big sip of my shake. “Shut up, Mason.  Now, back to the point, you’re absolutely, one hundred percent certain that Reggie knows nothing about us?”

“I mean, he knows that we’re friends.  That’s literally it, though.  It’s not like him and I have a lot of heart-to-hearts about my messy, drunken, post-depression haze hookups.” He reached over the table and covered my hand with his. “Just be careful with him, Lyds.  Reggie’s a good guy deep down, but he’s been through a lot lately, and he tends not to take out his emotions in the healthiest ways.  I’d hate to see you hurt.”

“Really Moose?” I gave him a skeptical look. “You’d hate to see me hurt?” I paused, biting my lip and looking back down at the worn-down linoleum table.  It was the same table that had been there forever, and something about it was deeply comforting. “I don’t think there’s much Reggie Mantle could do to hurt me more than life already does.”

“If there’s anyone who could, it’s him.”

* * *

 

Because the weather was so nice, Reggie had opted to leave his 1970 Chevelle at home in favor of a much newer Mustang convertible he snagged from his dad.  If he was out of town, Martin had no issue with Reggie borrowing his cars.  At the very least, he was too far away to do anything about it.  Reggie rolled into the church parking lot to see it almost entirely empty.  He pulled into the best non-handicap spot, put the car in park, and climbed out.

The building was simple, having been built and added on to so many times over the years that it lacked any sort of cohesive design.  As he walked up to it, he couldn’t help but think that some help with yardwork and upkeep was long overdue. 

The front doors were unlocked, but the entrance was dark.  Reggie offhandedly wondered if he’d be able to leave if he couldn’t find anyone. “Hello, anyone home?”

From the staircase to the basement, he heard a soft groan of frustration followed by a loud thud. “Yeah, I’m down here,” she called. Lydia—it had to be—and she sounded pissed off.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he followed the light down a long hallway to a room that looked like it had been hit with a bomb of preschool supplies. “Hello?”

“Yeah, here.” Her voice came from the closet, and it was muffled. “Any chance you can give me a hand?”

His lips pursed in confusion, and he walked over, stepping over a large box of crayons.  In the closet, he saw Lydia.  She was wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt with a giant cross on it, and her hair was pulled up in a messy bun.  Her face was turning red, and she was sweating slightly as she held up a massive box, her arms nearly shaking under the weight of it.

“Shit—let me.” He grabbed the box easily, hauling it off her shoulders and onto the top shelf.

She sighed with relief, stretching out her shoulders and looking up at him.  They were in close quarters, and her relieved expression was quickly replaced by a look of discomfort. “Thanks,” she muttered, sidestepping him to get out of the closet. “Sorry I wasn’t upstairs waiting for you—I was trying to get some cleaning done in here first, and as you can see, I kind of got trapped underneath that box.”

Reggie looked around the room skeptically. “And you’re planning to tackle this room alone?” Nearly every surface was covered in something—paints, glue, markers, crosses of every shape size and color, and at least a million coloring sheets.  It looked like it would take years just to see what color the surface of the table was, and he didn’t even want to consider looking in the other closets.

She gave him a hard glare, and he was almost taken aback by it. “I do, actually.” She brushed past him back towards the stairs. “Now, come with me.”

Reggie followed, his lips curving into a smirk.  This was not the same nervous church girl he had met the morning before, and he liked this girl a whole lot more.  He couldn’t help but stare at her ass she led him up the stairs.  Her shorts were longer than he’d ever seen on a girl his age, but it _definitely_ didn’t obstruct the view. “So, Lydia, right?”

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Correct.”

 _Charming._ “What kind of work do you have for me today?”

They reached the top of the stairs, and she turned to face him, her arms crossed over her chest.  She met his dazzling smile with an unamused stare.  “Painting.  In the Sunday School classrooms downstairs.  I can show you which, and everything you need is in the supply closet or the shed.”

He nodded, still grinning with amusement. “Easy enough.  Are you going to be working with me?”

Her poker face was abysmal, and her face twisted into an interesting combination of confusion, frustration, and embarrassment. “No, I won’t.  I have Sunday School lessons to plan, not to mention about a million other things to do.  If you have questions, I’m happy to answer them, but court-ordered community service isn’t exactly supposed to be a social activity.”

 _Damn—shut down_. “Well, then, care to show me where I’m painting?”

“Yeah, follow me.” She led him first to the main supply closet where he could find basic tools, then to the shed for ladders and other painting supplies.  As they walked, Reggie kept pressing for more information.  This was Midge’s best friend, after all, one of the last connections he had to the girl he’d cared so much about.           

“So, how long have you been helping out at the church?” She may have been keeping an aggressive pace, but his longer legs allowed him to keep up with relative ease.

She made a face that clearly indicated that she thought he was asking a stupid question. “Pretty much my whole life.  That’s kind of what happens when your dad is the Pastor.”

He nodded, not letting her mood get him down. “Makes sense, makes sense.  And what’d you do to earn the privilege of babysitting me all summer?”

Her lips curved into a barely-perceptible smile. “I think my dad’s worried that if he doesn’t keep me busy, I’ll go out and make poor teenage decisions.”

“Sounds about right.” He smiled more widely, glad to see that the ice queen was capable of more emotions than disdain. “Guess it looks like we’re going to be prevented from making poor teenage decisions together.”

“Looks like it.” They got to the first classroom, and she pushed open the door, flicking on the lights. “I’ll have you start in this room, and as you finish, you can work your way clockwise around the basement.  I don’t think you’ll finish it today, though.”

Reggie followed her in, looking around at the room.  It was a dingy shade of pale blue, and he doubted it had been painted in decades.  Nothing else about the room was dingy, though—the walls were covered in bright posters, the shelves were full of neatly aligned books and craft supplies, and on the board, in clear handwriting, it said _Miss Lydia’s Room._

“Your room,” he observed.

Her cheeks flushed a pale shade of pink, and her voice was soft. “Yeah, I figured you could start here in case you turned out to be terrible at painting or something—I’m much less picky than most of the church ladies.”

“Terrible at painting?” he laughed. “How can someone be terrible at painting?”

“Try going on a mission trip with a bunch of middle schoolers.  Trust me, people can be terrible at painting.” She flashed another one of those rare smiles, but she still wasn’t making eye contact with him—a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. 

So far, Lydia couldn’t be more different than her best friend.  Where Midge had been bright, cheerful, and outgoing, Lydia was quiet, reserved, and angry.  Of course, she had also just lost her best friend, so Reggie tried to keep that in mind before making too harsh of a judgement.

“Okay, well, I promise I’ll do better than the average middle schooler.” He grinned, trying to make eye contact with her.  She was too busy drifting off to somewhere he couldn’t follow.

“Mhm.” She nodded, turning to look at him. “I’ll probably be upstairs in the main office if you need me.  If I’m not there for some reason, you could text me too, I suppose.”

His eyebrows rose suggestively. “Probably means I need your number.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, probably.  And if you’re clever enough, you’ll find it on one of the hundreds of parent notes in the cabinet.  That’s a last resort, though.”

Nodding, he used his fingertip to trace an X over his heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Biting her lip, she tried not to smile, but the sparkle in her green eyes made it clear that she wanted to. “I’ll be upstairs.”

“I’ll be here.” He watched as she walked away.  Instead of staring at her ass this time, though, he watched her hands, the way they were clenching into tight fists.  Clearly, there was more going on with this girl than she wanted him to know, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading. Next chapter should be up soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: crude language, smut/sex, teenage alcohol use

The rest of the week, I was bound and determined to not talk to Reggie.  It was clear that he was nothing but bad news, and no number of charming smiles and “subtle” bicep flexing could change that.  In order to achieve my goal of never speaking to him, I had gotten in the habit of getting to the church late enough that he was already too involved in his work not to bother me.  It meant I had to give him a key, which my father would undoubtably disapprove of, but it was worth it for the relative peace. 

For the first week, my plan worked just fine.  Then, on Friday, I showed up at my usual time only to realize that there was no way I’d be able to ignore him.  The second I opened the door, all I could hear was music.  Thundering up the stairs almost loud enough to make the windows rattle, it was loud, vulgar, and absolutely not okay.  A frustrated groan slipped past my lips, and I dumped my backpack at the top of the stairs to took off toward the source of the sound.

Breathlessly, I reached the door to the classroom where Reggie was painting, and my jaw nearly hit the floor.

His back was to me, and he was dancing and singing along as he painted.  Every inch of his body seemed to be moving in perfect synch with the beat, his hips rolling in a way that looked better suited for the bedroom than a church basement. 

“What the—” I cut off, the word choking in my throat.  I swallowed hard and tried again. “Reggie, what the heck?”

Still dancing, he turned around slowly, his lips curved into a soft grin. “Oh, shit, Lydia—didn’t see you there.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit pause. “What’s up?”

“What’s _up_?” I snapped, my fists clenching at my sides when I was his smug look.  The image of him dancing was still tumbling around in my mind, so I did my best to focus on my anger instead. “ _What’s up?_   Maybe the fact that you’re listening to the trashiest music known to man in a church.”   

He stifled a small laugh as he set the paint roller back in the tray. “Does it really matter?  It’s just us in the church, right?”

“Well, yeah, for now.  Do you know how many people have keys to this place?  We hand them out to anyone remotely trustworthy, so at any given moment, you might be surprised by some random Sunday School teacher, quilter, choir member, or otherwise sweet old church lady.  And do you know what they’d do if they heard Kanye playing in the basement?”

“Wait, hold up,” he laughed, failing at any attempt to keep a straight face. “How’d you know it was Kanye?”

I groaned loudly, running my hand through my messy hair and wishing I had the guts or strength to punch his stupid smile off his face. “I’m not some sort of nun, Reggie.  You do realize that, for the most part, I’m actually pretty much a normal teenager, right?”

He started laughing for real. “Really?  Because _normal_ teenagers tend not to be so damn boring when they’re trapped in a church with another normal teenager.”

My jaw dropped.  Had he really just turned this back on me?  Had he really just called me boring?  _Who does that?_ “Not the point, dude.  The point is that if anyone but me heard that music, my dad would be yelling at me from now until the end of the summer.  All the church ladies would be gossiping about what a trashy little girl I was letting you get away with that.”

“Isn’t that a touch dramatic?” he asked, crossing his arms and holding my gaze. “I mean, like I said, you’re pretty boring, Lydia.  I don’t think they’d turn on you that easily.”

“Are you for real right now?  Are you s _eriously_ calling me boring for not wanting you to play rap music in a church?” I had given up on keeping my voice steady, and I wasn’t far from shouting at him for real.

“No, I’m calling you boring because this is the most words you’ve said to me all week, and I had to piss you off to do it.”

My mouth fell open, and I wished I had a better poker face. “Wait, what?  Did you literally just turn it up that loud to force me to come talk to you?”

He smirked in a way that I could only take as a yes. “Depends, will you stay and talk to me for a little while?  Maybe help paint if you’re feeling bored?”

I couldn’t tell if I was more amused or just absolutely furious, but the wrenching feeling of embarrassment in my gut signaled that I was probably somewhere between the two.  He just made me so damn uneasy, like he could see right through me without even trying.  Talking to him felt like talking to that damn Jesus statue in the sanctuary—it was like he could see everything I was doing my best to hide.  Unlike Jesus, though, he approved.

I realized I had been quiet too long when his smile widened—he knew he had me hooked. “Fine, I’ll hang out for a little while, if only to prove to you that I’m not entirely boring.”

“I thought you might say that.” He handed me a small paintbrush. “Here—want to do corners and edges?”

Rolling my eyes, I glanced down at my outfit—running shorts and an old Vacation Bible School t-shirt—and took the brush. “Fine, but only because I’d feel weird just sitting here watching you paint.”

His grin widened even further, and his pulled out his phone to turn the music back on, opting for a much cleaner, acoustic playlist. “Whatever you want to tell yourself, Lydia, whatever you want to tell yourself.”

I dipped the brush in the paint and got to work edging around the trim on the floor.  My stomach was still doing somersault, but the silence made it so much worse. “So, Reggie, I’m here—what would you like to talk about?”

“Let’s start with what you do around here, aside from being grumpy telling me what to do, of course.”

 I ignored his grumpy comment and exhaled sharply. “Well, in addition to teaching Sunday School, I also coordinate it by planning the units and lessons for the other teachers.  That’s probably my biggest job, so I try to do as much as I can during the summer so it isn’t as busy during the school year.”

He nodded, deep in thought. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

I shrugged. “I mean, it’s not the easiest, but I’ve done it for so long that it’s not too bad.”

“Do you like doing it?”

Pausing, I shrugged again. “I don’t know.  I guess it’s more like school than anything—something I have to do, but I don’t have any particularly strong feelings about it.  It just exists.”

“That’s seriously uninspiring.” He looked over his shoulder to give me an unreadable look.  Then, his lips curved back into that signature grin. “What else do you do?  I seem to remember you mentioning at least a _million other things_.”

It took all the self-control I had not to roll my eyes again. “Maybe it’s not a million, but there are a few things.  I sing in the choir, play piano for services now and then, and do whatever other odd jobs my dad comes up with.”

“For free?”

“Yup, completely.  Perk of being the Pastor’s daughter.” I shook my head. “It’s not like there’s much money to pay me with either—the church is a nonprofit, and Dad’s definitely not rolling in money.”

Reggie nodded thoughtfully, stopping for a minute to dip his roller back in the paint. “I guess not.”

I stood up and stretched, moving the bucket of paint closer to the door so I could paint around the trim there. “Alright, Reggie, your turn.  What would you be doing if you weren’t trapped here with me?”

“Baseball,” he answered, his voice softer than usual. “I’d be in the middle of baseball season right now.  There was no way I would have been able to play with how many hours I need to get done.  Not to mention, getting a ticket gets you kicked off the team faster than anything.” He sighed heavily, and for a moment, he almost had me feeling bad for him.

“Okay, so baseball, football, and basketball—is there any sport you don’t play?”

His smirk returned. “Well, I wasn’t super great at hockey when I tried, but other than that, yeah, I pretty much play it all.”

“No humility there, I see.”

He laughed. “What can I say?  I know what I’m good at, and I don’t really see any point in trying to hide it.”

“You’re insufferable, Reggie.”

“And yet you’re still here.” He set down the roller to turn and look at me. “And you’re even kind of smiling.”

I couldn’t help but laugh—his smile was becoming infectious. “Yup, you’ve done it.  You’ve made Lydia Boyd smile.  Do you want a prize or something?”

He laughed. “See, you’re not bad at all when you’re not determined to hate me.  I kind of get what Moose sees in you now.”

“Really?  Because I’m still not sure what he sees in you.”

His whole body shook with laughter, and he ran his hand through his perfectly-styled hair. “Maybe this summer won’t be so bad after all.”

“Bold words after one week of painting and ten minutes of conversation.”

“I don’t know—I have a good feeling about this.”

I didn’t want to admit that I did, too.

* * *

 

“So, dude, how’s the church slave labor going?” Chuck asked, downing what had to be his third or fourth beer.

Reggie shrugged. “Not too bad.  So far all I’ve been doing is painting.”

“And what about that hot little pastor’s daughter?” Chuck grinned lasciviously.  “Having any luck there?”

Reggie’s grip on his cup tightened, and he felt his jaw clench slightly. “Nope, no luck.”

Next to him, Moose was shifting from one foot to the other.  While Chuck may have been a dumbass when it came to reading people, Reggie could see that Moose was not thrilled with the topic of choice.

“Well, you might want to get on that,” Chuck laughed. “I mean, really, a hot little number like her, probably a virgin, seeing as she’s all religious and shit, you could have the time of your fucking life, and she wouldn’t know enough to tell you no.”

Moose lurched towards him, and Reggie was barely able to stop him from pummeling Chuck. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that,” he warned.  His voice was low, and his brown eyes were narrowed with half-drunk fury.

“Damn, big guy.  She’s just some girl—unless of course you’re fucking her now that Midge is gone.  Next best thing being her best friend and all.”

Reggie groaned, re-gripping his friend and wishing he was a few inches taller so he could hold Moose back easier before he killed Chuck. “Chuck, just shut the fuck up.”

“Damn, you’re fucking whipped for her too—are you _both_ fucking her?” He grinned, taking another big sip of beer and looking between his two friends. “Tag-teaming her while baby Jesus watches from the manger?”

At that, Reggie snapped, flying forward and shoving Chuck to the ground with a thud.  He was about ready to throw a punch when he realized exactly what he was doing.  Chuck was right—he had absolutely _no_ reason to care so much about Lydia, and it wasn’t not like he was a stranger to the way Chuck talked about girls.  Lydia wasn’t even his friend, much less someone he would get in a fight over.  As Reggie looked at Moose, though, it was clear he didn’t feel the same way.

He had pinned Chuck to the floor, using his size against his much shorter friend.  He had the front of his shirt clasped in a tight fist, and his other fist was raised, ready to strike.  “I swear to god, Chuck.  If you talk about Midge or Lydia like that ever again, I will knock you the fuck out.”

“Christ, Moose, get the fuck off me,” Chuck snapped, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell?”

“Do you understand me, Clayton?”

“Fuck, fine, yeah,” he stammered, a small flicker of fear crossing his eyes.  While Moose was typically the epitome of a gentle giant, he could also probably take on both Chuck and Reggie at once and win. “Yeah, I understand.”

“Good.” Moose lurched off of him and toward the door of the house. “I’m out of here.”

Reggie watched in dumbfounded silence as Moose stormed out of the room and into the yard.  Sure, he knew Moose and Lydia were friends, but he had no idea he felt so strongly about her.  It made him wonder why—was it just that she was his last connection to Midge?  Was it something else, something that he couldn’t see in her yet?  Was Chuck _right?_ Could Moose be sleeping with Lydia?  Whatever it was, Reggie was too drunk to figure it out.  He helped Chuck to his feet, not exactly happy with him either, but not about to leave him lying there, his mouth gaping like an idiot.

“What the fuck was that?” Chuck asked.

“Hell if I know,” Reggie replied, surprising himself with the honestly on his statement. “I think we need more beer.”

“Fuck yeah we do.” Chuck half-stumbled over the keg to start pouring more. 

Reggie took a sip, glad that this beer was at least cold.  As he drank, though, his eyes taking in the party in front of him, he couldn’t get his mind over what just happened.  Here he was, at a party, one of the last places he felt like himself, and all he could think about was Moose, Midge, and Lydia.

“Hey Reg,” Josie drawled, walking over to him and grabbing his arm.  Her breath smelt like alcohol, and he had a feeling there was something stronger than cheap beer in her cup.

“Hey Josie,” he replied, instinctively putting on his most charming smirk. “What can I do for you?”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you think, dummy? 

“Still like me even though I’m a criminal?”

“Hey, a girl never forgets her first drug-induced hookup.” She grinned back at him. “Anyways, all these parties are full of freshman lately, and I’m not some sort of cougar.”

Reggie shrugged, doing his best not to let a genuine smile slip. “Hey, freshman aren’t too bad when you give them a chance—everyone has to start somewhere.”

“You disgust me, Mantle.”

“Still want to hook up?”

Trying not to smile, she nodded.  Since they were at Chuck’s house, Reggie knew the best place he could take her to get a little privacy.  As he led her out of the main house to the pool house, Reggie realized exactly how drunk he was.  Every step felt like a mile, and the chaos of people jumping in and out of the pool made his head spin.  By some miracle, they made it into the pool house, and Josie slammed the door behind him, pinning him to the door and dropping to her knees in one fluid motion.  Either she wasn’t as drunk as he was, or he was so drunk that everything seemed to be moving in a blurry slow-mo.

Moaning, Reggie rand his hands through her curls as she got to work unzipping his jeans. “Fuck, Josie.”

“Damn, Reg, how long has it been for you?” She looked up at him with a smirk as she started palming his hard-on through his boxers. “I didn’t even have to touch you.”

“Christ, Josie, stop being such a tease.”

“Maybe when you stop being such an ass.  Ask me nicely, Reggie.” Her brown eyes flickered with amusement, but in the darkened pool house, Reggie couldn’t see much.  All he knew was that his head was spinning and he desperately needed a release.

“Please, Josie,” he begged, his voice strained.

She had pulled down his boxers and was stroking him for real now, earning a flurry of low moans. “Please what?” 

“Please suck my cock.   C’mon, Jo, I’m going to fucking burst.”

“If you say so.” She lowered her mouth onto his length, taking it slowly at first.  As soon as she realized how close he was, though, she took him deeper, as deeply as she could without gagging. 

Reggie’s eyes squeezed shut, and all he could focus on was how good her mouth felt. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, his fingers locking around her hair. “Yeah, babe, _shit_.”  It had been too long, and he knew he was close. “I’m gonna come.” 

She hummed, using her tongue to tease the sensitive underside of his cock as the vibrations rumbled through him.  That was all it took too put him over, and he exploded, thrusting harder than he probably should have into her mouth as his orgasm flooded through him.

“Holy shit, Josie,” he sighed, his eyes still shut. “Wow, you’re so fucking good at that.”

Wiping her mouth, she stood up to face him. “Something’s off with you, Mantle.”

“What are you talking about?” Reggie muttered, finally dragging his eyes open.  He was still basking in the post-orgasmic glow, and here she was, ripping him out of it. “It’s been a while, okay?”

“Nah.” She shook her head, and her voice softened. “It’s more than that, and you know it.  You’ve barely been able to look at me tonight, Reg.”

“Well I don’t know what the fuck you expect, Josie?  We hook up when we get trashed at parties—that doesn’t exactly scream emotional intimacy.”

“My god, you’re an ass, Reggie.  We may not be a couple, but we’ve been friends since elementary school.  I’m not asking you to make love to me—I’m just asking what’s changed.  Hooking up with you used to be fun.  Now it just feels like you’re fucking me to try to forget someone else.”

His breath was ragged.  He didn’t like being that easy to read, but this was Josie—one of his only friends that hadn’t dumped him as soon as he touched that gun.   He bit his lip and then let out a low sigh. “I really fucking miss her, Jo.”

She nodded, biting her lip in an attempt to keep a straight face. “I guess I never knew it was like that.”

“That’s just the thing,” he replied, throwing his hands up in frustration. “It wasn’t.  It was _never_ like that.  She was always with Moose, and I was never going to have a chance.  Even if they broke up, I wouldn’t, because then I’d be that guy who went after my best friend’s ex, and while I don’t mind being a tool, I’m not absolutely heartless.”

Josie crossed to room to hug him, holding him tightly and resting her head on his chest. “It’s okay, Reg, really.” She just stood there for a minute, holding him and listening to the frantic sound of his heart beating in his chest.  Then, she finally looked back up at him. “Does Moose know?”

“No, and he can’t.  He can never know that I kept that from him for that long.”

“How long’s that long?”

“Too long.” He clung to her, holding her close and wishing it made him feel anything.  Being with Josie would be easy—they made sense together.  They had been friends forever, they were both popular, attractive, talented, and they could have been the power couple of Riverdale High—they _should_ have been.  Holding her, though, even sleeping with her didn’t make him feel anything.  It was fun and easy, but it wasn’t any deeper than that.  And no matter how much he wanted it to, it never would be.

Her voice was soft when she finally spoke again. “Maybe working at the church will be good for you—a sort of fresh start, a chance to decompress from all this shit for a summer.”

“I doubt it,” Reggie said. “Lydia Boyd was Midge’s best friend.  If there’s anyone who feels shittier than me about this whole thing, it’s her.”

“What about Moose?”

Her words reminded him of how weird Moose had been, and it made him realize just how much Lydia and he shared.  They had been the two people, other than her family, that loved Midge the most.  Whatever their relationship was, Reggie knew that nothing he felt could even compare to their grief.

“Yeah, Moose too.  And, of course, the two of them are best friends now.”

“It’s okay to feel lost, Reggie,” Josie said, finally pulling away from him. “Life and feelings don’t always make sense.”

“I don’t think it’s ever really made sense, at least not since the Black Hood.”   

“Well, the Black Hood’s gone now, so maybe it’s time for things to start making sense again.”

“I hope so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!! Chapter 6 is coming soon!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hiatus is over!
> 
> To all the old readers, thanks for sticking around. To the new readers, thanks so much for checking this out!
> 
> Fun fact: the idea for this chapter is basically what sparked the idea for the whole fic, and it's one of my favorite things I've written. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> no major warnings

_“C’mon, Lydia.  It’s really not a big deal—everyone’s doing it.” Midge’s smile is bright, mischievous._

_I roll my eyes. “Everyone’s doing it?  C’mon, Midge, you sound like a stock character in one of those ‘Just Say No’ videos we had to watch back in middle school.” I look down at the colorful straw in her hand.  Jingle Jangle, they called it.  It was a silly name with a silly look to match.  It was still a drug, though, and I wasn’t about to get anywhere near it, no matter how hard Midge pushed.  I could practically feel my dad’s disappointment in me for even considering it._

_“She’s right, Boyd,” Moose says, looking up from his phone. “It’s really not a big deal.”_

_I roll my eyes again. “No means no, guys.”_

_“Look who’s quoting middle school health videos now,” Midge replies with a smirk. “It’s okay, though, Lyddie.  I’ll still be your friend even if you are the world’s biggest prude.”_

_Only Midge could get away with saying it, and my lips curve into a smirk. “Whatever you say, Midge, just be careful with that stuff, okay?”_

_“Course, Lyds.” She squeezes my hand, her smile softening. “I’ll be fine.”_

* * *

 

I blinked hard, reality hitting me like a tidal wave as I remembered where I was, as I remembered _when_ I was.  That party, the one with the Jingle Jangle, had been months earlier.  Now, I was at Chuck Clayton’s house again, a decision that I found myself regretting almost immediately after Kevin talked me into it.

“C’mon, Lydia, you’re out for the first time in _ages_.  You need to be drinking,” Kevin said, handing me yet another red cup. “I promise this one won’t be nearly as bad.”

Giving him a skeptical look, I took the cup and tried a sip.  Like the last drink he had brought me, it was some combination of fruity vodka and soda.  Unlike the last one, though, this one was surprisingly drinkable, and I found myself taking a second sip. “It’s not as bad, I’ll give you that.”

Kevin smirked. “I’ll take it, Lydia.” He ran his hand through his hair and took another sip of his drink as he scanned the room. “Now, we just need to get your church-going ass drunk enough to hook up with someone.”

“I am not hooking up with anyone, Kevin.” I gave him a firm look, daring him to argue.

“Well, I am.” He had caught the eye of a hot blond guy that I didn’t recognize across the room.  Then, he gave me another look. “Are you sure you don’t want me to play wingman?  Because I am an _excellent_ wingman.”

“I’m sure, Kev.  I—” I cut off, something across the room catching my eye.  It was Reggie.  Like me, he had a red solo cup in hand.  Unlike me, though, it was clear he planned to hook up with someone.  Josie McCoy was all over him, her dark eyes fixed on him with an intensity that filled me with dread.  My chest felt heavy and stiff, and I wanted nothing more than to go home.  I couldn’t look away, though.  As I watched, Josie ran her hand down Reggie’s chest, and he wrapped his arm around her waist.  Then, they started walking, ducking out of the house and into the backyard.  The stiffness in my chest dropped into my stomach, and I found myself finishing the rest of my drink to calm it.

“Hey, Kev?”

“Yeah?”

“I still don’t want to hook up with anyone, but I need to get fucked up.”

His eyes widened in shock.  It was a look I had gotten more in the months since Midge’s death than I had in my entire life.  “Lydia, I—”

“Just get me a drink, Keller.”

* * *

 

“Oh my gosh, Moose, what are you doing here?” I gushed, grabbing the front of his coat and using him to hold myself upright.

“Lydia, what the hell?  How much have you been drinking?” His arms wrapped instinctively around me, pulling me tight against him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” I slurred, running one hand up his face to play with his hair. “I thought you went home, though.”

“I did, Boyd.  Until Kevin called me to take your drunk ass home.”

In my drunk state, I didn’t even care how embarrassing that was. “Oh my gosh, Moose, that is so sweet.  Thank you so much for coming for me.”

His lips curved into a soft smile, and his arms tightened around me.  It was late, well past one in the morning, but the party was still raging around us.  Everywhere, people were dancing, drinking, and hooking up.  Neon strobe lights were flashing through the room, the effect of the rotating colors almost dizzying.  The music was so loud that I could feel it thumping straight through the floor into my skull.  Suddenly, everything felt like it was spinning.  I shouldn’t be there—I never should have been there.  I didn’t belong.  I didn’t fit in.  It wasn’t where I was supposed to be.  Everything hurt.  Everything was just too much. 

Moose was there, though.  Moose was always there.

“Moose, I need to get out of here.”

“I know, Lydia.” Still holding me like my life depended on it, he walked me out of the house and into the yard.  He was parked at the end of the driveway, a spot normally reserved for Chuck’s closest friends.  Carefully, Moose lifted me up into the cab and buckled my seat belt.  Then, he walked around to the driver’s seat. “So, Lyds, where are we going?”

My eyes started to water, and I blinked back tears. “Can we go to your place?  My parents would kill me if I came home like this.”

“Of course.” He pulled out of the driveway.  Almost as soon as we were on the road, my tears turned into full-blown sobs, and he pulled over. “Shit, Lydia.  What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, Moose,” I mumbled, my voice heavy with tears. “I just don’t fucking know.  I just—when did everything spin so far out of control?”

Unbuckling his seatbelt, Moose slid across the bench seat to pull me close. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Lydia.  Is this about Midge?”

“It’s all about Midge.  Literally, everything is about Midge.” My words were running together as the pitch of my voice picked up. “How can it not be when I lost my best friend?  My only friend?  How the fuck can anything make sense after that?”

“It doesn’t.” His voice was firm, but his lips were pulled tight across his teeth. “None of it makes any fucking sense, Lydia.  Why the fuck would it?  Midge is dead, and now we’re here trying to pick up the goddamn pieces of our lives.  Why does that need to make sense?”

I couldn’t tell him the truth—that this wasn’t about Midge.  Well, not entirely.  I hadn’t been lying—Midge was always in the back of my mind, always there, reminding me of her absence.  Tonight, though, it wasn’t her absence that had set me over the edge.  No, it was some guy, a guy I knew nothing about, a guy who shouldn’t mean a damn thing to me. That made even less sense, though, so I just kept my mouth shut.

* * *

 

It wasn’t often that Reggie regretted a night out, but when he walked into the church the morning after Chuck’s party, his pounding headache had him wishing he had just stayed home.  Reggie moved slowly to the shed, collecting everything he’d need for painting.  He was working in what appeared to be a Youth Room now.  It was full of second-hand couches, and at that moment, Reggie wanted nothing more to collapse into one and pass out.  He resisted the temptation, though, putting on his headphones and cranking the music.  It didn’t do much for his headache, but it definitely didn’t make him want to sleep.

The morning drifted into a long, slow, painful daze.  Roller in paint.  Paint on wall.  Refill tray.  Move ladder.   Drink Red Bull.  More paint.  Clean brush.  Bathroom break.  More paint.  Try not to think about Midge.  Try not to think about Moose.  Try not to think about Josie.  Try not to think about Lydia.  Try not to think about Lydia. 

* * *

 

“Knock, knock,” Reggie said, walking through the open office door with the first smile he’d had all day.  His Red Bull was kicking in, and he was starting to feel like himself again.  Sure, his head was still pounding, and he felt like he could nap from then until next week, but it was nothing he hadn’t felt a million times before. “Oh Lydia, where—”

“Mantle, shut up,” she groaned, her head down on her desk. “Or at least talk quieter.”

Reggie cocked his head, trying to get a better look at her face.  Her long, brown hair was loose and wild around her, covering her face and splaying across the desk. “Lydia Boyd,” he laughed. “Are you hungover?”

She groaned, her hair fluttering as she exhaled. “Yes, Reggie, I am.”

His eyebrows pursed as he tried to put it together—either the pure, chaste, perfect Lydia Boyd had a secret drinking problem, or she had been at Chuck’s party the night before. “Lydia, were you—”

“At the party, yes.” She sat up, brushing her hair behind her ears and looking up at him.  Her green eyes were ringed with dark circles, and her usual, easy smile seemed heavier. “And I drank too much and have a hangover.  Believe me that I can be a normal teenager now?”

Reggie’s smile only faltered for a second as he grabbed a chair and yanked it toward the desk.  Sitting on it backward, he rested his elbows on the desk and leaned towards her. “Maybe.  The real question is, though, what would a normal, non-boring teenager do right now?  What would they do when they, and their community service slave, have miserable hangovers and want nothing less than to sit in an empty church and work?” He put on his most charming smile, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Probably bail and leave the community service slave a key to lock up.”

“Lydia, Lydia,” he groaned. “Have you no mercy?  Let’s get out of here.”

She shook her head, taking a deep breath and doing her best to ignore what seemed to be a brutal headache. “We can’t leave because my dad would totally find out and throw a fit, but—” she cut off, biting her lip.

“But what, Lydia?”

Her eyes narrowed, and she shook it off. “It’s such a bad idea.”

“Bad idea is practically my middle name.”

“Fine.” She bit back a small smile. “If you tell anyone, though, I will not hesitate to kill you.”

He finally let the grin he’d been holding back escape. “Big words out of someone the size of my dog.”

“I sure hope you have a big dog.”

“Wiener dog, actually.”

She snorted with laughter, finally smiling for real. “A wiener dog?  You’re kidding me, Reggie, _you_ have a wiener dog?”

“I do, and I’ll tell you all about him if you tell me what this bad idea is.”

“Fine.  There’s a bell tower back behind the altar.  Just take the door hidden behind the blue curtain, climb up the sketchy ladder, and I’ll meet you up there in a minute.”

He grinned, too excited about the prospect of getting out of work to care how weird the whole thing was. “Sketchy ladder hidden behind a blue curtain?  Boyd, are you planning to kill me?”

She rolled her eyes and stood up from her desk to grab a ring of keys. “Not this time, Mantle.  Just meet me there.”

“Will do.”

* * *

 

Pushing aside the blue curtain, Reggie found the hidden door.  It was short, maybe up to his waist, with a silver handle and a rusty latch.   There was an ancient-looking padlock on the latch with the key hanging out.  Clearly, this wasn’t the first time Lydia was climbing this sketchy tower.  Reggie gripped the padlock and tugged it open.  Then, he pried open the latch and pulled the door open with a loud creak.  The space was cramped and dusty, not so much a room as a miniature closet.  There was just enough room for him to squeeze in and get a grip on the equally ancient ladder. 

“She better not be trying to lock me in or something,” Reggie muttered as he started climbing.  He had never been claustrophobic, nor had he ever been afraid of heights, but at that moment, as he climbed the rickety ladder, he was a little bit of both.

“Come on, Reggie, I expected you to be up top by now,” Lydia called from the bottom, making him realize just how high he’d gotten. “Get moving—the ladder won’t hold both of us at once.”

 _Damn, she can talk some shit_ , he thought, his lips curving into a small grin.  “Sorry I wasn’t thrilled about climbing your sketchy-ass tower ladder, Boyd.” He reached the top and yanked himself up onto the smooth wooden surface.  The floor was clearly old, like at one point it had been rough and unfinished but years of people walking on it had sanded it down.  As he looked around, his eyes widened.  The room was tight, only large enough for the massive bronze bell and the narrow walkway around it.  Near the ladder, there was just enough space for two people to sit.  The best part was the windows, though.  Wide, bronze-rimmed windows that pointed in every direction.  The church was on the edge of town, on a piece of land that bordered both Sweetwater River and Fox Forest, so Reggie could see everything from the opposite edge of town to the endless green horizon of the forest.

“Killer view, isn’t it?” Lydia asked, hauling herself onto the platform next to him.  In one hand, she was holding a gallon jug filled with burgundy liquid.

“Lydia,” Reggie asked, unsure if he could trust his eyes. “Is that wine?”

“Sure is,” she replied, unscrewing the top. “The finest off-brand communion wine.” Sighing she leaned back against the wall, her arm brushing against his. “Sometimes, when I feel like absolute shit, I snag some and come up here to get away.”

Reggie watched as she took the first sip of wine.  For a girl that was supposed to be the perfect little pastor’s daughter, she was sure full of surprises.  It wasn’t until she set the jug down and gave him a pointed look that Reggie realized he was staring.  Swallowing hard, he picked up the jug and downed a sip—it was possibly the cheapest wine he had ever tasted, but the effect it had on his headache was near-immediate. “What are you getting away from?”

“Mostly the crippling realization that my best friend is dead, but also my dad sometimes.”

Reggie’s eyes widened, and he attempted to sputter out a reply.  Before he could, though, she started laughing.

“Jeez, man, I was kidding.” She grabbed the wine and took another sip. “My parents are just a lot sometimes.”

“I get that.” Reggie exhaled slowly, running his hand through his hair and doing his best to keep his eyes fixed on the view instead of Lydia. “I _really_ get that.”

“Want to talk about it?” She turned those piercing green eyes on him, and his heart started thudding. “You seem like the king of repressed issues.”

He scoffed, looking away before her eyes sucked him any deeper. “That may be true, but you’re definitely the queen.”

“Oooh, touché, you got me.” She passed him the wine, and her skin felt hot against his when he grabbed the jug. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“Can I ask a question first?”

“Shoot.”

He bit his lip and took a big sip. “Are you and Moose, like, a thing?”

“Me and—what—I—no, not at all.” Her eyes were wide with fear, and her face went pale. “No, we aren’t a thing.  We’re just friends.”

“Okay, okay.” He paused. “So, repressed issues.  My parents are rich and terrible, and I’ll never be good enough for them.”

Her eyes widened.  She wasn’t expecting that level of honesty. “Not good enough?  You’re basically the king of Riverdale High.”

“Maybe I used to be—now I’m basically the family disgrace.”

“Dang, I can’t imagine.” She paused. “Well, kind of.  I’m not exactly my parent’s favorite these days.”

“What?  Pastor Boyd not a fan of his little girl sneaking out to party?”

“Amidst other things.” She exhaled slowly. “I think he’s just terrified that he’s losing control.”

“Damn, are you sure we don’t have the same dad?”

“I hope not,” she laughed. “Talk about drama, though, imagine the shock and horror if Marty Mantle and Pastor Samuel Boyd turned out to be the same person.”

Laughing, he took another sip of wine. “You know, this stuff gets better and better as you go.”

“Trust me, I know.” She took the jug and took another swing. “And there’s something about it being stolen communion wine that makes it that much better.  Irony is sweet, and all.”

He smirked. “It really is.  Shouldn’t that make it worse, though, the moral shit?”

Her voice softened as she set down the jug. “Maybe if it were this time last year.”

“Before Midge.”

“Before everything, really.  Before jingle jangle, before the Black Hood, before Midge.” She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut like she was trying not to cry. “Some days I would kill to go back to this time last year.” She shook her head and then looked back at him. “I imagine you’re no stranger to that feeling.”

Reggie took another big sip of wine before answering, and this time, he found himself looking right at her. “A year ago, I was on top of the world.  I was just about to get my driver’s license, it looked like I had a good chance at football captain, and the thought of getting a gun and trying to hurt someone wouldn’t have crossed my mind in a million years.  At least, I thought it wouldn’t.”

She nodded slowly, biting her lip like she couldn’t decide how she wanted to reply. “Why’d you do it?”

Reggie’s eyes widened.  Of all the questions people had asked, not many had the guts to ask that one. “I wish I had a good reason.”

“No one has a good reason to get a gun and try to kill someone.  That doesn’t mean it’s not worth talking about.”

“Damn, it’s like the Dr. Lydia show up in here.”

“You don’t have to answer.” Her lips curved into a slight smile as she took another sip of wine. “Just remember, I won’t show you mine unless you show me yours.”

He couldn’t help but smile back.  Then, his face dropped. “I can’t blame it on Hiram Lodge, but it sure wouldn’t have happened without him.  All that Red Circle bullshit—we were playing tough, but more than anything, we were scared.  Moose and Midge had already been attacked once, and then Midge was dead.  I may not have been as close to her as you were, but—” He swallowed hard. “She was still one of my oldest friends.  When Hiram told me it was Fangs, that I’d have a chance to get justice for her, I just reacted.  I don’t—I wish—I—”

“I don’t blame you,” she said, her voice almost scarily flat. “I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same if he’d offered the gun to me.”

“I regretted it the second the gun went off, though.  I didn’t know if it was me—I thought it wasn’t, but everything seemed to be exploding around me.  As soon as I saw Fangs bleeding, I—I knew that I never really wanted to go through with it.”

She nodded. “Makes sense.  It must have been a relief when you found out it was Mrs. Klump.”

“I’m not sure relief is the word I’d pick.”

“Me neither.”

He took a deep, shaky breath, and then looked more closely at Lydia.  Like always, she was wearing shorts and a t-shirt.  Aside from the Sunday they’d met in church, it was all he’d seen her in that summer.  He thought back to all the times he’d seen her in school, about how little attention he’d paid to her.  At school, she was more like Midge’s shadow than anything.  Where Midge had been outgoing and energetic, Lydia had always been a quiet nobody.  Spending this time with her made him wonder just how much else he’d missed out on.

“Alright, your turn.  We know what’s got me drinking stolen church wine on a Friday morning.  What’s got you doing it?”

“Shouldn’t be a shocker that it’s also related to Midge.”

“Not really.”

She smirked and then rolled her eyes. “It’s more than just her being dead, though.  Of course, I miss so bad it hurts, but I miss feeling like life makes sense more.  I used to know who I was, what I believed.  These days, nothing feels solid.  The faith that used to define my life feels like it’s just a trick of the light, like if I look too close, it’ll all go up in smoke.  I used to know that God is good, and now I don’t even know if God is real.” She let out a shaky sigh. “I don’t even recognize myself anymore.  Before everything, I never would have gone to parties, stolen communion wine, hooked up with—” She cut off, shaking her head quickly. “Never mind.”

“It’s okay,” Reggie replied. “I don’t need to know.”

“And now I have to go through the next two years of high school with no one.  I’m just that weird Christian girl who’s only friend died.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m just that psycho jock who tried to kill someone.  I can’t say I’ve been all that popular this summer.”

Smiling, she shook her head, giving him a look that made his chest tighten. “And now here we are.  Stuck with each other.”

“Looks like we’re not so alone, after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no major content warnings

That Monday, for the first time in months, I rolled out of bed and smiled.  As I shuffled around my room getting ready, it was almost uncontrollable.  The feeling was foreign, almost too good to be true, and I never wanted it to end.

I got to the office early, powering up the hundred-year-old computer that lived on my desk and pulling up the email from Dad with Reggie’s recommended tasks.  Today was yard work—mowing and edging the lawn, weeding the gardens, and trimming some bushes—nothing I could offer to help with without it being stupidly obvious that I wanted to hang out with him.  I sighed with frustration, shocking myself with the expression of emotion.  Before I could figure out why I cared so much, though, I heard loud, male laughter approaching the office.

“So, this is what a church looks like,” a voice scoffed. “Shouldn’t I have burned up upon entrance?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Clayton.” Moose.  I recognized that voice as Moose.

“Doesn’t fucking matter, guys,” Reggie laughed. “We just need to get shit done, and then we’re out of here.  Boyd’s daughter usually let me out early if I finish early.”

“Boyd’s daughter, huh, is she as much of a bitch as she seems?”

My feet were moving fast than my brain, and I greeted them at the office door, my arms crossed against my chest. “Great to see you too, Clayton,” I greeted, and he just smirked in response, clearly not caring that I had heard what he called me.  I looked at Reggie, completely ignoring the sympathetic look Moose was giving me. “What’s going on, Mantle?”

He blinked, and then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before returning to a straight line.  “Guys had the day off from baseball, and I thought I’d bring them by to help with whatever you’ve got for me today.”

I sighed heavily.  It probably wasn’t allowed, and I surely didn’t care. “Whatever.  Yard work today—mowing, edging, trim the bushes, and weed the gardens.  Leave all the grass and weeds in the compost pile by the vegetable patch.  Everything’s in the shed.  I’ll be here if you need me.” I realized I was staring over his shoulder, trying to avoid whatever I’d see in his eyes. “And yeah, feel free to leave whenever you’re done.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

There was a moment of silence before Chuck spoke up again.

“Well, fuck, let’s get going, guys.” He shoved his friends, turning around to head back out of the church without so much as a look at me.

Moose hung back for a second as the other two walked out. “Everything okay, Lydia?” His voice was soft, like he knew exactly what I was feeling.

“I’m fine, Moose,” I replied, my lips pressed into a tight line.

He lifted his eyebrows skeptically. “Okay, sure.  I guess Chuck’s jackass really does rub off on everyone.”

My jaw slowly dropped as he walked out.  For a minute, I just stood there, wondering what the hell had just happened—how I could have gone from being in the best mood I had been in in weeks to the worst.  Not wanting to think about it, I slammed the office door shut and walked over to the sanctuary.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, I didn’t bother to flip on the lights.  Being there was so much easier when I didn’t have to see the ever-present Jesus statue hanging on the altar in clear detail.  With a heaving sigh, I flopped onto the front pew, the one I usually sat in with my mom on Sundays.  I rolled onto my stomach, resting my forehead on my forearms and fixing my eyes on the smooth wooden surface and pretending it was the only thing in the world.          

“What am I doing, Midge?” I whispered. “He’s a jackass—a jackass that tried to kill someone.” My elbows started to ache from holding my face off the hard surface. “He really is trying to redeem himself, though.  I can see that much.” I exhaled again, trying to keep my voice steady even though there was no one around to hear. “And it’s not like I’m some kind of saint.”    

The only response was the hourly chiming of the bell tower.

“If you were here, you’d talk me out of this stupid crush in a heartbeat.” My chest tightened, and it took everything I had not to cry. “If you were here, though, I’d never have this stupid crush in the first place.”

* * *

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right behind you guys.  I just need to check out with Lydia first,” Reggie said as he relocked the padlock on the outdoor shed.  With one hand, he wiped the sweat off his forehead, and with the other, he pulled out his phone, hoping that maybe she’d texted him.  Even if it was just more tasks, it would have been an indication that she didn’t absolutely hate him again.

“Check in with Lydia?  Didn’t she say you could leave when you’re done?” Chuck said, his eyes narrowing in undefined frustration.

“Look, dude, I need to make sure I get my hours, and she’s the one who does that.  Seriously, I’ll catch up.”

“We can wait, you know—”

“Chuck, let’s go,” Moose cut him off. “We’ll be at Pop’s.”

“Sounds good.” Reggie gave Moose a grateful look.  As always, Moose seemed to be able to read his mind.  At the very least, he realized that he needed some time to talk to Lydia.  As soon as they were in Moose’s truck, Reggie headed back into the church.  When he checked the office, though, it was dark.

“Fuck,” he muttered.  She was already gone, and he shouldn’t have been surprised.  Pulling out his phone, he turned to walk out of the church.  Then, he jerked to a stop.  Music.  There was music coming from the sanctuary.  Slowly, Reggie turned and walked back, stopping just outside the imposing wooden door.  It wasn’t that Lydia _told_ him he wasn’t allowed in the sanctuary, it was just an implication.  He had to talk to her, though, and knocking on the massive door felt weirdly out of place.  Carefully, he pushed the door open, being careful not to make a sound.

Most of the lights were off, and Lydia was sitting at the grand piano at the front of the sanctuary.  The lid was propped slightly open, and there was no music in front of her.  Her eyes were shut as her fingers danced across the keys in a rhythm she obviously knew well.  What caught his attention more than anything, though, was her voice.  Reggie wasn’t surprised that the clearly religious song was entirely unfamiliar, but he was surprised that Lydia was easily one of the best singers he’d ever heard.  He couldn’t bring himself to interrupt.

_“Be still my soul, the hour is hastening on,_

_When we shall be forever with the Lord,_

_When disappointment grief and fear are gone,_

_Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored._

_Be still my soul when change and tears are past._

_All safe and blessed, we shall meet at last”_

She lifted her fingers from the keys, and her sigh echoed through the now-silent room.

“Can we talk?”

Lydia nearly flew off the bench, her eyes shooting open as she grabbed the piano.  Her face had gone bright red, and she quickly crossed her arms, clutching fistfuls of her oversized sweatshirt. “Shi—Reggie, you scared me.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed, walking over and pulling up a nearby chair. “I just didn’t want to interrupt.  You sounded great—what song was that?”

She gave him a skeptical look, scooting back on the bench and putting a deliberate extra few inches between them. “Just some hymn.  So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Some hymn?  I bet it has a name.”

Lydia exhaled sharply through her nose, her lips pressed into a tight line. “ _Be Still My Soul._ Do you want a crash course in theology, too, are you going to get to the point?”

“I’m sorry about before, Lydia.” His words were spilling out in a rush, and his eyes dropped from hers, the evident hurt there giving him a stomachache when he made eye contact for too long. “It was shitty of me to act like that, especially seeing as I’m supposed to be using this summer to be a better person and all.”

“It’s not a big deal, Reggie.  Chuck’s an ass—it’s not like there’s anything you can do about that.”

“Well, no, but—” He looked up from his lap to see that she hadn’t looked away for a second. “But what kind of guy am I that I can’t tell Chuck to shut the fuck up when he’s talking about my friend like that?”

“Friend?”

Reggie could see that she was trying not to smile, and it made his heart start pounding in his chest. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t just tell anyone who gives me free wine my deepest, darkest secrets.”

She laughed for real at that, finally releasing her tight grip on herself and relaxing a little. “I suppose not.”

“Anyways, I want to make it up to you.”

“Reggie, that’s not—”

“Oh, shut it, Boyd.  I never did get around to telling you about my dog, so I think it’s only fitting that you meet him.  How about dinner, tonight?  My parents are going to be out, so we can get dinner and hang out.  Maybe Vader will even get his lazy ass up and play fetch.”

“Vader?” she laughed, the sound damn-near musical. “Your dog’s name is Vader?  As in, Darth Vader?”

“Yes, as in Darth Vader,” he replied, his grin widening.  “Dude’s a little badass.”

“Alright, Mantle, I’ll come over and meet Vader the badass wiener dog.” She ran her hand through her hair, brushing it off her face, and Reggie realized what she was wearing.  Not a church t-shirt.  A real shirt, with a neckline and everything.  Everything in him was screaming not to read into it, that what she wore meant literally nothing.  At the same time, though, he couldn’t look away from her smile, from the way she was looking at him. 

_What the hell am I getting in to?_

* * *

 

As I pulled up my car to the address Reggie texted me, I immediately felt out of place.  I had seen Riverdale mansions before, but this place was next level.  The house was huge, with three stories and a property the size of my block, and it made me wonder if Reggie’s dad was selling more than just cars out of his fancy dealerships. 

Before I had too long to gape at the size of the place, though, I was greeted by Reggie and a tiny brown dog following at his heels.  The dog took off toward me, barking absolutely viciously until I crouched down to pet him.

“Oh my gosh—this must be Vader.”

“What’d I tell you?  A badass guard dog.”

The little dog had flopped onto his back, wiggling happily as I rubbed his belly. “Oh yeah, clearly a monster.”

Reggie laughed and took my hand to help me to my feet.  My heart thudded so hard that I was 90% sure it was about to explode out of my chest. “So, want the grand tour, or should we just skip to dinner?”

I looked back up at the mansion and raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure that by the time we got through a grand tour, I’d die of starvation.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s not _that_ big, but it’s also not that exciting.  Come on in.” He dropped my hand, and my skin felt like it was on fire where he had touched me.

I followed him up the stairs into the massive house, and I had to fight to keep my mouth shut.  Everything around me screamed luxury, from the solid wood floors to the massive staircase, and to the paintings on the wall.  One room in this place probably cost more than my entire house.

“So,” he continued, “at the risk of coming off as way too pretentious, I decided to send the housekeeper home for the night and order pizza instead.”

“Housekeeper?  What the—never mind.  Pizza sounds great.”

He smiled slightly and led me into the kitchen where there were a pizza box and soda sitting on the counter.  We grabbed food, sat down at the table, and started eating.

“Vader, get out of here,” Reggie laughed, gently shoving the small dog off his leg and tossing him a pepperoni.  Then, he looked back up at me, his brown eyes soft. “Lydia, I have to admit that I thought you might back out last second.”

“Back out?  Why would I do that?”

“I dunno.  The only time we’ve really bonded was when we were half drunk on communion wine.  I figured that sober you would think this is a terrible idea.”

I rolled my eyes. “Haven’t we been over this, Reggie?  Sober me isn’t completely boring.”

“I think I’m starting to see that.” He smiled softly, and for a moment we just ate.  My mind was racing with all the things I should or shouldn’t say.  Luckily, he broke the silence for me before I got too wrapped up in my impending anxiety. “I’ve been meaning to ask, now that you’re not still mad at me, of course, what is it that you actually do for fun when you’re not at the church?”

I had to force myself not to roll my eyes at his tone. “Well, as you now know from sneaking up on me, I play piano.  It started just for church, but I actually really like it.”

“Have you ever considered performing?  With a voice like that, you’d kill it.”

Heat rushed into my cheeks in what was probably an obvious blush. “Thanks, but no.  Not only would my father disapprove, but I’d also be way too nervous.  It’s bad enough when I have to sing in church—I can’t imagine being on some sort of stage.”

“Well, either way, I think you’re great.” He took another bite of pizza and looked back up at me with a look that I couldn’t quite identify.  Before he could press the issue further, though, I changed the topic.

“Alright, Reggie, you never did explain to me how you ended up with a wiener dog.”

He laughed and leaned back to scratch the dog’s ears. “Well, it was just before I started high school.  I knew I wanted a dog, so I went to the shelter with every intention to get some lab mix or something.  Definitely something bigger.  When I got there, though, this little guy was going at it with a dog that had to be three times his size, and he was totally winning.  I liked how scrappy he was.” He smiled fondly. “So, I ended up with a wiener dog puppy.”

“And why the name Vader?”

“Like I said, he’s a badass.” He looked up and smirked at me. “And I really like Star Wars, but Obi-Wan doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.”

I laughed and took another bite of food, trying not to reveal how much I wanted to smile. “No, I suppose it doesn’t.  I never would have pegged you as a Star Wars nerd, though.”

He scoffed, leaning back on the back legs of his chair. “Are you kidding—those movies were my favorite when I was a kid.  I was Obi-Wan or Darth Vader basically every Halloween from kindergarten onwards.”

“So, the great Reggie Mantle is secretly a nerd.  Who would have guessed?”

“Hey, Star Wars is cool again.”

“If you say so, Mantle.”

“That’s it, my dignity can’t take it anymore.” He got up and tossed our empty pizza plates in the trash, already halfway out of the kitchen by the time I stood up. “Time to have some fun.”

I got up to follow him. “What do you have in mind?”

“How’s your hand-eye coordination?”

“Terrible on a good day.”

He grinned. “I figured as much.  Ever been to a batting cage?”

* * *

"You’ve got to be kidding me, Reggie, you have a batting cage in your attic?  This is absolutely ludicrous.”

Laughing, he handed me a helmet. “It’s a byproduct of having parents who care more about my athletic achievements than just about anything else.  There’s a full basketball court outside, too.”

“Well, I’m amazed regardless.”

He had grabbed a bat and put on his own helmet. “You ready for this, Boyd?”

I took the bat and attempted to get a grip on it in a way that felt mildly familiar from freshman gym class. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

With a laugh, Reggie shuffled me into place at the end of the cage and stepped in front of me to give me a critical look.  Then, he gently adjusted my hands and took my shoulders to shift me to a better angle. “There we go.  Also, like, turn a little more, and—hmm.  That’ll do.” He jogged over to the control panel and started hitting some buttons.  “Now, I’m going to start it super slow, so you should be able to hit at least a few.”

“In theory,” I muttered, trying not to focus on how much physical contact we’d just had. “Let’s not get our hopes up.”

He laughed. “You’ve got this, Lydia.  Ready?  Three, two, one…”

The ball came flying out of the machine, and I jumped, completely forgetting to swing as it shot toward me.

Reggie laughed harder. “Lydia, you’re supposed to hit the ball, not dodge it.”

I rolled my eyes, re-gripped the bat, and looked back at the machine. “I’ll be ready this time.”

“Alright, three, two, one…”

Another ball flew out, and I managed to swing, completely missing the ball. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groaned.

“Here, let me help.” Reggie jogged back over and wrapped his arms around me.  All he was doing was adjusting my grip, but it felt like a lightning bolt was shooting through my entire body.

_Get a grip, Lydia._ I thought. _It’s Reggie.  Reggie Mantle.  You shouldn’t even be friends with him, much less have a crush._

“Okay, so when the ball comes, all you do is…”

With his hands over mine, he guided me through the motion of the swing.  His breath was hot against my neck, and I could feel his heart beating in his chest.  It was fast, too fast.  Like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

“Ready?”

“I—um—yeah,” I sputtered. “Ready.”

“Awesome.”  He took a step back and went to press the button.  This time, I barely clipped the ball, sending it flying into the net to my left. “Nice, Lydia!” he cheered.   Another ball shot out, and I hit it for real.  The ball soared across the cage and into the net opposite of us.

“Yes!” I shouted, throwing my arms in the air. “I did it!”

“You did,” he laughed.  Reggie had a wide smile as he took the bat back from me. “I knew you had it in you.”

“I also had a pretty good coach,” I replied, taking off the helmet and shaking out my messy hair. “Thanks for not giving up on me.”

“Give up on you?  Wouldn’t dream of it.” We were close together now, his body only a few inches from mine.  Normally, that would be my cue to back away, to give myself some distance.  I couldn’t though.  I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his, couldn’t force my feet to move.  All I could do was stand there, gaping like a complete idiot and wishing for something, _anything_ to happen.

As if on cue, my phone rang, and I was forced to look away. 

“Who is it?”

“My dad.”

“Do you need to answer?”

“No, but if I’m not home soon, he won’t be happy.” I sighed and silenced the phone. “I should probably go.”

“I guess so.  See you at church tomorrow?”

“Of course.” I smiled softly and managed to take a step back from him.  Then, I took a deep breath. “So, are you going to show me out, or will I be forced to navigate this palace of a house on my own?”

“I’ll show you out.”

“Thanks, Reggie.”

“Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I know this chapter was a bit slow, but Reggie and Lydia are currently way to in-denial to move any faster. That will definitely be changing soon though, so stay tuned!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: TW: CHILD ABUSE, VIOLENCE: the opening flashback scene in italics features features violent, physical child abuse. If you would like to skip that content, start reading after the italics.

* * *

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Martin bellows, the sound echoing through the massive foyer. “Fucking jail?  A gun?  How the fuck did this happen, Reginald?”_

_“Martin!” Melinda snaps. “You need to calm down.”_

_“Calm down?  Calm down?  I just bailed my son out of jail for attempted murder.  You do know that right, Melinda?  That Reggie attempted murder?”_

_“Dad, I—”_

_“You shut the fuck up,” he barks. “And you go to bed, Melinda.”_

_“I’m not going anywhere, Martin.”_

_“Fine, then close your damn eyes.”_

_“Dad, please, I—”_

_The back of his hand hits Reggie’s face with a smack, and Reggie’s head slams to the side.  He staggers, grabbing his face and trying not to show any emotions.  He knew better by now, that Martin would only get angrier if he showed even a trace of fear._

_He’s ready for the next blow, a fist to the gut.  Reggie doubles over with a moan, and Melina gasps._

_“Martin, please, he’s—”_

_“He’s a damn criminal is what he is!”_

_Another blow.  And another.  Reggie hits the ground, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Vader cowering behind his mom.  She’s on her knees, crying and begging for Martin to stop.  Thankfully, Vader is quiet.  Reggie doesn’t want to think about what his dad could do to the little dog._

_Before long, his vision starts to blur, and the pain runs together.  All he can hear is his mom crying, his dad shouting, and the sound of a gun going off._

_Then, it’s over, and Martin’s in the dining room opening the liquor cabinet.  Mom helps him to his feet, shuffling him into the bathroom and cleaning up the blood.  Reggie can barely even think, can barely even feel.  Vader’s at his feet whimpering softly.  Once she’s done, she takes him to bed, nearly changing him out of his dirty, bloody clothes._

_“Reggie, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” she’s whispering through her tears. “I’m so, so sorry.”_

_Everything fades to black as he drifts off to sleep.  Vader’s curled into the crook of his elbow, and all Reggie knows is that he can’t stop crying._

* * *

 

“I’m serious, Reggie.  You need to step this shit up,” Martin said, swirling his scotch around the small crystal glass. “The odds of you making captain this year are slim to none, and you’re down a season of baseball on top of that.  Keep up like this, and you won’t even make it into SUNY Albany, much less a D1 school.”

“I know, Dad,” Reggie replied, barely looking up from his now-empty plate. “I promise this season will be better.”

“It better be.” He glared over his glass. “After all the money we’ve poured into your sports, you damn well better get a scholarship.”

Melinda let out a slow sigh. “Marty, it’s fine.  Coach Clayton has already said that Reggie’s welcome back onto the team.  Even if he’s not captain, he’s going to get plenty of playing time.”

Martin didn’t look convinced, but he also didn’t seem to want to continue with the conversation.  Reggie just wanted to get the hell out of there.  Dinner with his parents was the low point of any week.  At least he only had to suffer through it once, maybe twice, a week since they were both so busy with everything but him.

“And how’s your work at the church going, Reggie?” Melinda asked. “Pastor Boyd’s last email said nothing but good things.”

“It’s going fine,” he replied, deciding immediately that he didn’t want to tell his parents about the anything, or _anyone_ , at the church.

“What kind of work have you been doing?”

“A lot of painting, yardwork, some cleaning and moving old boxes.  It changes from week to week.”

Melinda nodded, her red lips curving into the ghost of a genuine smile. “Good.”

“Mhm.” Reggie took a sip of his drink. “I definitely think it’s good for me.”

Martin scoffed, and Melinda chose to ignore him, taking another sip of her wine instead. “Good, honey.  I’m glad to hear it.”

* * *

“Alright, man, time for you to cheer up,” Moose laughed, handing his friend a beer with a wide smile. “It’s summer, it’s a Friday, and you’ve just survived dinner with your parents.  Perk up a little.”

Reggie managed a smile as he turned on the Xbox. “Okay, sure, things are looking up.”

“There we go.” Moose twisted the cap off his beer and grabbed a controller. “So, what are we playing?”

“2k?” Reggie offered.

“Never a bad choice.”

The two settled into the game, and before long, Reggie’s mood was definitely lifting.  He had a nice buzz going, and he was destroying Moose in the game.  It was like any other Friday night, and for a moment, he could forget that nothing seemed to feel quite normal anymore. 

“So, dude, how’s baseball going?”

Moose shrugged. “Not bad.  Coach’s been on our asses since we lost the game against Greendale, but we play Forest View next week, and I don’t think they’ve ever won a game.”

“Nah, their JV team beat Greendale in that one game a few years ago, didn’t they?”

“Doesn’t count.” Moose rolled his eyes. “Either way, we’ll kill ‘em, and Coach will be in a much better mood.” He took another sip of his beer. “What about you?  How’s the community service going?”

Reggie had to bite back a smile.  Instead of answering right away, he threw a three-pointer, putting his team in the lead and earning a groan from Moose.  When he did finally speak, he took on an intentionally vague tone. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?  Two whole words to sum up how you spend 90% of your time these days?  I guess community service is even more boring than it looks.”

Reggie laughed and flicked a bottle cap at Moose, hitting him squarely in the chest. “Well, it’s a lot better now that Lydia doesn’t seem to hate me.”

Moose smiled fondly, and Reggie had to bite back an unexpected flare of jealousy. “Yeah, she can be a bit rough around the edges at first.  For someone so sweet, she’s really not good at hiding it when she doesn’t like someone.”

“Yeah, not, not really.” Reggie had turned his attention back to the game. “Between me and Vader, though, we won her over.”

Vader looked up from the bone he was chewing on when he heard his name.  As soon as he realized that Reggie wasn’t talking to him, though, he went back to chewing.

“Vader?” Moose asked, lowering his controller slightly. “What does Vader have to do with it?”

“She came over on Monday,” he answered. “We had pizza, and I attempted to teach her how to hit in the batting cage.  I don’t know what it is, man, but I really like spending time with her.”  He didn’t add that she was also the first person who could really take his mind off Midge, who made him feel like he wasn’t trapped by all his past mistakes.  Moose didn’t really need to know that level of emotional detail.

“Oh, okay.” Moose looked tense, but Reggie was still too focused on the TV screen to notice.  He scored twice on Moose’s team before pausing and looking up.

“What the heck, dude? You’re usually better than me at this game.”

“I dunno.” Moose had finished his beer and was fiddling with the label on the bottle. “I just didn’t know you and Lydia were getting so close.”

Reggie cocked an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“No, of course not.  I just—like I said, I just didn’t see it coming.”

“Okay,” Reggie drawled, confused by Moose’s cold reaction.  He and Lydia were friends, weren’t they?  Shouldn’t he be happy that they were getting along?  Unless there _was_ something more there.  Lydia had said there wasn’t, though, and he had a hard time believing that she would lie to him during their bell tower heart-to-heart.  Even if it was nothing, though, he couldn’t help but push further. “Why didn’t you see it coming?”

“I don’t know, man—maybe because she’s an uptight church girl, and you’re you.  She doesn’t even drink.”

Reggie’s mind flashed back to a week earlier, to the morning they had spent drinking the wine she stole from her own church _inside_ said church. “I don’t know, dude.  She might be a little less uptight than you think.”

“I think I know her a little better than you, Reggie.”

“Okay, sure, whatever.”  Reggie got up and grabbed another two beers.  He handed one to Moose and took a huge gulp from his.  Moose had been one of the few constants in his life since everything went wrong, but ever since the summer started, things had been off between them.  Of course, Reggie had no idea if it was him or Moose, probably both if he was being real with himself.

“Sorry I’m being weird,” Moose said, taking a sip of the beer and turning away from the TV to look at Reggie. “Like I said, I just didn’t see it coming.  I’ve known you both for a while now, and it just took me by surprise.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Reggie picked up his controller. “So, back to 2k?”

“Back to 2k.”

* * *

 

“Lydia, get down here,” Mom called, her voice ringing through the echoey house.  Her tone didn’t reveal much, as usual, but it was firm enough that I knew better than to argue.

“Coming,” I called back, tucking a bookmark into my book and kicking off the covers.  Since it was a Saturday, I was taking advantage of my one real day off to lay in bed as long as humanly possible.  Of course, that couldn’t last forever.  Still in my pajamas, I slumped down the stairs and into the small foyer between the kitchen and the living room.  When I got there, my jaw dropped, and I wondered if I had somehow fallen asleep and woken up in some kind of parallel universe dream world.

He was real, though, and he was eyeing up my outfit with a smirk. “Looking good, Boyd.”

I looked down and let out a silent groan.  _Of all nights to wear the penguin pajama shorts._ “Reggie, what are you doing here?”

Mom’s eyes moved skeptically between us.  Clearly, she wasn’t thrilled to have Reggie Mantle show up at our house unannounced on a Saturday morning, but it was completely possible that she was even _less_ happy that I was greeting a guest in a ratty tank top and penguin pajama shorts.

“Well, Lydia,” he drawled, cutting through the near-palpable tension in the room and deliberately not making eye contact with my mom. “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out today.”

“Hang out?”

“Yes, as in go somewhere, do something, maybe have some fun?” He smiled at me, and it was a smile much softer than his usual smirk.

All I could do was gape, though.  There I was, in my pajamas, my mother watching like she was ready to burst, as Reggie Mantle asked me to hang out.  It was literally too unbelievable to be true, and I once again entertained the possibility that I had fallen into a parallel universe.  Then, the whole thing started to sink in, and I realized that my heart had been pounding hard in my chest.  Somehow, I managed to make myself nod.  “Yeah, I—um—just give me a sec to get ready.”

“’Course, Lydia.” He smiled again, looking far too relaxed for the situation. “Take as long as you need.”

Still in a slight fog, I darted back up the stairs and into the bathroom as fast as my legs could carry me.  Within minutes, I had washed my face, brushed my teeth, put on makeup, and gotten dressed.  With a quick look in the mirror, I raced back downstairs to jerk to a stop breathlessly in the living room.  Dad had joined the party now, and he was staring at Reggie with the same intensity normally reserved for me when I asked to skip church. 

Reggie looked completely calm, though.  He had one leg crossed over the other, and he was lazily petting the cat sitting next to him on the couch.  Once again, all I could do was gape.  If him showing up hadn’t been enough to convince me that the whole thing was some kind of delusional parallel universe, the fact that the cat was letting him pet him was.    

“Lydia,” Dad said, his voice surprisingly calm considering the situation. “Please, have a seat.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I moved to the couch and sat down, earning a dirty look from the cat as it nearly flew off the couch to get away from me. “What’s up, Dad?” I was amazed my voice managed to come out somewhat steadily.  On top of being inches away from Reggie, Dad was giving me a particularly piercing look.  Either one of those factors was typically enough to make me nervous, so putting them both together had me wondering if anti-anxiety meds or a pacemaker would be better for keeping my heart rate under control.

“Just wondering what’s going on here,” he finally said, his cool gaze flicking between us. “Why Mr. Mantle here felt it was appropriate to show up at our house on a Saturday morning?”

“Well, Dad,” I answered, doing my best not to cop too much of an attitude. “Reggie and I happen to be friends.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really,” I said more firmly, crossing my arms. “And while I may be out of practice in the whole friendship thing, it is pretty standard to hang out.”

Reggie smirked, giving me an impressed look.

“And you,” he continued, rounding on Reggie. “You consider yourself friends with my daughter?”

“I do, sir,” he replied smoothly. “Working with her has been the highlight of my summer.”

My heart soared, and I wasn’t able to hold back a wide smile.  When I looked back to Dad, though, his lips were pressed into a firm line.  He looked like he’d rather profess his loyalty to the church of Satan than let us out of the house together.  He didn’t have much of a choice if he wanted to come off as even slightly reasonable, though. 

“Fine.” He gave me one final hard look. “We will talk about this later, young lady.”

“I’m sure we will, Dad.”  Moving instinctively, I grabbed Reggie’s hand and yanked him off the couch and toward the door.  I grabbed my purse on the way out, shouting a goodbye to Mom when I was already halfway out the door.  Once it was shut behind us, I dropped Reggie’s hand and turned on him.

“What the heck is this, Reggie?” I demanded, trying to keep my voice down so my parents wouldn’t hear me through the open windows.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing in genuine confusion.

“What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t I already answer this?” he laughed. “I want to hang out with you, Lydia.”  Slowly, he glanced behind him to make sure the door was shut and took a deep breath. “Look, I really like hanging out with you outside of church.  I don’t know what it means for us, but I know that occasionally painting with you when I lure you to the basement with vulgar music isn’t going to cut it.” He paused, and I could have sworn that he looked nervous. “That is, if you want to.”

His words managed to have an effect on every part of my body.  My heart was racing, my palms were sweating, my stomach was full of butterflies, and I was nearly dizzy with excitement. “Yeah, Reggie, I’d love that, actually.”

His lips curved into a soft smile. “Awesome.  Let’s go, then.”

I climbed into his car, amazed by how nice it was.  The Chevelle was old, obviously, but not in the same way as my ancient Camry.  While that thing was barely holding on to life, Reggie’s car was beautiful, and I wasn’t one who was normally impressed by that sort of thing.  As he pulled out of the driveway, though, I was forced to snap back into reality.

“So, Reggie, what are we going to be doing today?” I asked cautiously, trying to keep my voice even when everything in me wanted to freak out.

“Well, I was thinking we could start with lunch, seeing as I did just wake you up.” He grinned cheekily.

I rolled my eyes, feeling myself relax as I settled into the conversation. “I wasn’t sleeping, dude.  I was lying in bed trying to enjoy some peace and quiet on my one day off.”

“Okay, okay, sure,” he laughed. “For real, though, how do you feel about getting out of Riverdale for a little while?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“There’s this awesome little café in Greendale that’s right by this park with lots of trails.  I was thinking we could get food and then walk around and explore a little.”

“That sounds perfect.”

* * *

 

“Okay, so the cat’s name is what?”

“Howard,” I admitted, tossing another rock onto the pond in a lame attempt at skipping. “And no, I have no idea why.”

“How old is he?”

“Like a hundred or so.”

Reggie laughed and skipped another rock halfway across the pond. “I highly doubt that.”

“You can doubt all you want, but that cat’s been around as long as I can remember, and he’s hated me since the beginning.”

“Aw, how could he hate you?”

“Did you see the way he flew off the couch when I sat down?  I don’t know what I did, but that cat hates my guts.  To be fair, he hates everyone’s guts, but I’m still pretty sure I’m number one on the _people Howard hates_ list.” I tossed another rock in the water, not even bothering to attempt to skip it, and watched as the ripples radiated out from where it hit. “I guess I’m more of a dog person, anyway.”

“Me too.”

I looked closely at Reggie as he skipped another rock, taking in all the little details I had never cared to notice before.  The way he threw so naturally, like he had been doing it since the day he was born.  The way his dark hair had a slight curl to it, that it looked so impossibly soft.  It made me want to run my hands through it, but I bit back that urge to focus on what he was saying instead.  “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“What, am I distracting you?” He smirked, his eyes running over me in that way that made my stomach start doing backflips.

“A little bit, yeah,” I admitted, shocking myself with my own boldness.

His smirk shifted into a real smile, and he took a step closer to me.  It was the closest we had been since that night in his batting cage nearly a week earlier, and this time, there was no part of me that wanted to move away.

“You distract me too, Lydia.” His voice was soft. “More than I’d like to admit.”

“Reggie, I—” I bit my lip, caught in his gaze and lost for words.  I had to say _something_ , but the words felt like they were just inches out of my grasp. “I don’t know what on earth I’m doing.”

“Me neither, but what’s life without a little mystery?”

“You can’t be serious right now.”

“I’m dead serious, Lydia.” His smile faded, and he looked at me with an expression that I could only describe as _longing_.

His words gave me the courage to find mine, and I barely registered what was coming out of my mouth until it was too late to take it back. “Reggie, I think I like you a whole lot more than I’m supposed to.”

There was a moment of loaded silence, and all I could hear was the sounds of the nature around us—the water brushing against the rocky shore, the frogs croaking, birds chirping.  Then, Reggie opened his mouth. “Lydia, I—uh— _shit_.  There’s something I need to tell you, something that you need to know before this goes any farther.”

“What’s that?” My lungs twisted into knots, and every breath burned.

He ran his hand through his hair and gripped the back of his neck hard.  Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a deep breath.  Then, he let out a slow exhale and looked back up at me. “Midge.”

My heart dropped into my stomach, and I could barely make my voice audible. “What about Midge?”

“The reason I got the gun that day,” he continued, fighting to maintain eye contact. “It wasn’t just that I was scared, that my friend had been attacked.  It was— _fuck—_ it was because I cared about her more than I should’ve.  She wasn’t just my best friend’s girlfriend.  She was—” His voice broke.

“You loved her,” I stated plainly, the knot in my stomach loosening and being replaced with a different, almost nauseous sensation. “You loved her, and that’s the only goddamn reason you ever wanted to get close to me.” I stumbled back a few steps, not wanting to be anywhere near him.

“No, Lydia, no!” he said quickly. “That’s not what this is at all.  I never loved Midge.  I never let it get that far.  She was always Moose’s girlfriend, and I never would have acted on it.”

“But it is the reason you were interested in me.”

“Maybe at first, but not for long.  Lydia, you have to believe me—that’s not why I like you.” His voice had grown frantic, and his fists were clenched hard. “Our relationship was never about Midge—it was about the way you treated me like a goddamn person that morning in the bell tower, the way you laughed at my dumb jokes and didn’t make fun of my dog.  It was about the way you treated me like a person when everyone else just saw a kid with a gun.  Lydia, please, I’m telling you this because you deserve to know the truth, but you have to know that I wasn’t just trying to replace Midge.”  His voice softened, and he looked like he wanted to reach out and pull me into his arms. 

I kept my distance, though, biting my lip hard in an attempt to hold back tears. “So why did you even need to tell me?  What does an old crush have to do with us?”

“Because I’d never want you to find out any other way.  She was your best friend, Lyds, and I couldn’t bear to hold onto a secret like that knowing that when it came out it would almost certainly hurt you.  I don’t ever want to lie to you, Lydia.  You don’t deserve some asshole who’s going to lie to you.”

“Okay, fine, I get that.” I took a cautious step closer to him.  The conversation couldn’t have lasted more than a minute, but it felt like I had just run a mile. “Thank you, Reggie.”

My words came out steady, but my mind was racing.  All I could think about was Moose, Reggie’s best friend.  Reggie had just shared his deepest secret, a secret about my best friend that he was terrified would ruin our relationship before it even began, and I couldn’t do the same.  What happened between Moose and me wasn’t just my secret, though—it was Moose’s, too, and I couldn’t betray his trust for the sake of my own conscience.

Reggie was looking down at me, his brown eyes perceptive, like he knew what I was feeling before I even did.  I glanced away, unable to look at him, and then his arms were around me, holding me impossibly close.  His heart was thudding in his chest, and all I could focus on was his scent—a subtle, simple scent that reminded me of being outside on a fall day.

“Lydia, I don’t deserve you for a second.”

I shook my head, clinging to him like he was the only thing preventing me from slipping off the face of the earth. “I’m not nearly as good as you think.” 

“I don’t give a damn.”

* * *

 

After the moment we had at the pond, something shifted between Reggie and me.  It was subtle, almost too subtle for me to notice, but it was there.  We kept the conversation easy after that, both of us too exhausted by our own emotions to talk about anything deeper than where we wanted to get dinner. 

We ended up at some Italian place that we were both deeply underdressed for, but Reggie’s flashy credit card was all it took to get us a table.  After dessert, the evening quickly turned into night, and Reggie finally took me home after a succession of angry texts from my parents.

When we got back to my place, he got out of the car with me, opening my door and pulling me into his arms for another hug.  As Reggie held me, his hands resting comfortably on my back, I never wanted to let go.

“Thank you for everything today, Reggie.” My voice was soft, like I was worried my parents might hear. “Really, it was amazing.”      

“Don’t thank me, Lyds,” he replied, his dark eyes warm under the dull porch light. “Trust me, it was my pleasure.” His hands slid to my waist to hold me in front of him.  As he looked down at me, his lips parted slightly.  I glanced at his lips, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by him, and it took all the self-control I had not to kiss him right there.  I had spent the past few weeks doing everything I could to squash my feelings, to tell myself that I didn’t care.  After the day we’d just had, though, there was absolutely no more lying to myself.  Reggie and I had feelings for each other, and we had just stepped through a one-way threshold from which there was no turning back. 

Reggie Mantle and Lydia Boyd—the most popular guy at school and the shy pastor’s daughter.  It was impossible, unreal.  Yet, here he was, standing in front of me, his hands on my waist and his face inches away from mine.  It was absolutely, perfectly real.

Behind me, the door slammed open, and Reggie and I jumped apart, mirrored looks of shock on our faces as we both snapped out of our daze.

“Thanks for bringing her home, Reggie.” Dad’s voice was flat and cold. “And Lydia, I think it’s about time we had that talk.”

I groaned silently, giving Reggie a look that I hoped conveyed exactly how sorry I was. 

He just smiled that usual charming grin. “I’ll see you later, Lydia.”

“See you later, Reggie.”  As I turned to walk back to the house, he turned to walk back to his car.  Even once I was inside getting lectured by two parents at once about how bad of an idea he was, I couldn’t wipe the contented smile off my face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Chapter 9 will be up next week! I'll probably wait until Wednesday, though, since I don't see myself posting on Christmas.


	9. Chapter 9

The chaos that was erupting around me made me wish I had just stayed in bed.  On one side of the room, a team of three first-graders had taken it upon themselves to cut up every last piece of scrap paper in the room.  On the other side, another five monster-children were playing a shockingly violent game of Duck, Duck, Goose.  More urgent than either of those issues, though, was the screaming blond demon charging headfirst toward the wall with an uncapped Sharpie in hand.

I dove across the room, ducking around a pile of tiny chairs and snatching the Sharpie out of the demon-child’s hand. “Lucas, no!” I ordered firmly, making a face when I saw the angry black line the marker had left on my palm. “No Sharpies.”

He glared at me with a look that would have fit in well in any low-budget horror film, but he didn’t say anything.  _Small blessings,_ I reminded myself, _look for the small blessings._

“First graders!” I shouted, hoping my voice would cut through the din. “That’s it for Sunday School today—time to go find your parents!”

They all scrambled into a line, and I cracked open the door to let them run free.  I half-heartedly tried to escort them each to their parents liked I was supposed to, but promptly gave up when all ten of them sprinted haphazardly in different directions.  Finally, I was able to exhale.

After a stop in the bathroom to scrub the Sharpie line off my hand, I trudged up the stairs to get to church.  Sometimes, I could get away with being late after a particularly busy day of class, but Dad had been in a foul mood since the day before, and I didn’t want to push my luck.  

Somehow, I made it to the top of the stairs, and what I saw when I got there made me stop in my tracks.  A kid slammed into my back, nearly plowing me over, but my grip on the handrail was just tight enough to keep me upright.

“How— _what?_ ”

* * *

 

Reggie was amazed by his ability to hold a conversation when he wanted nothing more than sprint in the opposite direction.  Pastor Boyd had disliked him from the start, but now that he was spending more and more time with Lydia, it was clear that the man downright loathed him.  Nodding absentmindedly, Reggie took a small sidestep, craning his neck slightly to look around the Pastor at the stairs to the basement.  That’s where Lydia was—teaching Sunday School in the basement. 

Reggie tried to imagine what she was like when she taught.  He had spent plenty of time in the room, covering the faded blue walls with a shade of pastel yellow that he was sure Lydia had picked out herself.  He could practically see her working with the kids, smiling, laughing, and talking to them in that soft, sweet voice he couldn’t seem to get out of his head.

Then, she was there, and he almost couldn’t believe his eyes.  Instead of her usual shorts and t-shirt combo, she had on a dress.  It was simple, a shade of light green that nearly matched her eyes and a neckline that was entirely church-appropriate.  It hugged her torso tightly, though, showing off her waist and giving her a shape that nearly had him drooling.  Reggie had to snap his jaw shut to make sure he wasn’t gawking.

Before he knew it, some church member had caught Pastor Boyd in a conversation, and Lydia was standing in front of him, smiling just as wide as he was.

“What are you doing here?”

“Seeing you, of course.” While he wanted to take her in his arms right there, he settled for holding her hand instead. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

A pink blush rose into her cheeks, and she looked down as if trying to find a way to brush off the compliment while murmuring a brief thank you.  Reggie wasn’t having it, though.  Lightly, he lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

“Mind if I sit with you during the service?” _Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes._

“I’d like nothing more.” Gripping his hand tighter, she led Reggie to the very front row of the church, sitting down in the pew next to her mom.  He barely registered her frustrated expression, focusing instead on the way Lydia’s leg was pressed into his, the way their intertwined hands were resting on his thigh.

For all Reggie noticed, the church service could have contained literal sacrifice, and he wouldn’t be able to remember it.  Instead, he spent the hour trying not to hyper-analyze Lydia’s every movement.  From the way she twisted locks of her dark hair around her fingertip when she was bored to the faces she made when her dad said something she didn’t like, he couldn’t look away.  Then, when she was particularly amused, she would whisper a snarky remark in his ear, and his jaw would clench with the realization of how close her lips were to his skin.    

By the time the service ended, Lydia just about flew out of the church, dragging him with her.  As soon as they were out of the confines of the church, he relaxed noticeably, tossing his arm around her shoulders as they walked.

“Where the hell are we sneaking off to now, Boyd?  Another secret church hideout where we can drink stolen wine?”

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t contain her bright grin. “Not quite—more like my favorite place in the world, somewhere far away from all the gossipy church ladies.”

* * *

 

He laughed and reached up to loosen his tie a bit. “That’s always a plus.  I have to say, I think there were more eyes on us than on your dad back there.”

“Oh, almost certainly,” I replied, rounding the final curve in the path, leading us into a small clearing along the bank of the river.  I looked up at him with a smirk. “Think you can sit on the ground in that fancy outfit?”

He rolled his eyes and flopped onto the grassy slope, nearly pulling me onto his lap in the process. “I’d be more concerned about your dress.”

Laughing, scooted in close to him, sighing contentedly as he put his arm back around me. “Hey, Reggie?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for coming today—I know it was probably weird for you, but it really means a lot to me that you came.”

“Don’t just think it was for you, Lyds.” He smirked. “Twelve whole hours without you was way too many.”

“Now that’s a bit dramatic.”

“ _I’m_ a bit dramatic, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“That’s okay.” My voice was soft as I looked up at him. “I kind of like that about you—keeps things interesting.”

He laughed, leaning in close and then pulling back slightly, biting his lip.  Reggie was nervous, and it made my heart race in the best possible way.

“Reg,” I started, slipping my arm around his waist. “Last night, when you dropped me off, were you going to kiss me?”

He swallowed hard and then shrugged, putting on what appeared to be a casual, confident grin. “Depends, would you have kissed me back?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

Slowly, he closed the gap between us, his eyes drifting shut as his lips found mine.  For a moment, time seemed to stop, and all I could feel was the pounding of my heart.  Then, I slipped back into reality, and we were kissing.  His lips were impossibly soft against mine, and his hands had wrapped around my waist, holding me close.  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, holding myself even tighter against him.  I never wanted to break away.  Time faded away as we kissed, and I lost all sense of anything but the feeling of his lips on mine and his body pressed into me.  It might have been seconds, minutes, hours, days, or weeks before we finally broke apart, both breathless.

Reggie let out a slow breath, biting his lip as he smiled. “Wow.”

“Wow is right,” I breathed.  I was still holding on to him, one hand on his shoulder and the other in his hair. “That was—”

“Amazing,” he finished, resting his forehead on mine. “Absolutely amazing.”

“We should do that again.”

“Agreed.”

Still smiling, I pressed my lips into his, already craving his mouth on mine. For a while, we just kissed, barely breaking apart for long enough to smile at each other and break into fits of laughter.

“This is so ridiculous, Reggie,” I said, running my hand through his hair in what already felt like a familiar gesture.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“How on earth can I supervise your community service now?  I feel like it might be a conflict of interest.”

“Lydia, I have no doubt that you’ll still hold me to it.  You’re far too moral of a person to let me get away with skirting my punishment.” He smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Even if your very presence will be infinitely more distracting now.”

“Well, I’ll do my best not to distract you.  No promises, though.”

He smiled, leaning in for another brief kiss. “You know, I think this is the first time I absolutely can’t wait to get to work on Monday.”

* * *

 

When he walked into church the next morning, Reggie couldn’t shake his dopey smile.  It didn’t even matter that he was in for endless hours of the world’s most boring manual labor because Lydia would be there.  Even if she was too busy to talk to him long, or if he was doing something she couldn’t help with, she would be there.  That alone was enough to keep him in a good mood.  Even Pastor Boyd couldn’t kill his mood—Reggie had always been the type of guy that parents loved to hate, and he didn’t see the most Christian man in Riverdale being the exception to that rule. 

As soon as Reggie reached the lobby of the church, though, the smile was wiped off his face.  He could hear the shouting even from behind the closed office door.

“Lydia Tabitha Boyd, you will not speak to me like that—you know better!  Your mother and I don’t want you dating in the first place, much less dating someone like Reggie Mantle.  Of all the boys in Riverdale, you pick _him_?  Are you trying to hurt me?  Trying to turn your back on God?  Because it’s sure working.”

Lydia’s laugh was cruel, and it made Reggie’s heart sink.  “Hurt you?  Me _trying_ to hurt you?  Dad, it’s pretty clear that I hurt you just by being born.  But you know what, Dad?  I don’t even care anymore.  I don’t care that I’ll never be good enough for you or God, because neither of you have been good enough for me.”

There was a pause, and Reggie thought it might be over.  He was just about to take another step toward the office, but then he heard his name again, and he froze.

“And don’t pretend it’s just Reggie, Dad.” Her voice was quieter, colder. “It’s any of those horny, dangerous boys that are going to swoop and steal my virginity, as if I don’t play a role in who I might have sex with.”

“Don’t even start with me, Lydia,” he snapped. “You know how important it is that you protect you—”

“Dear Lord, father, if you tell me to protect my heart one more _fucking_ time, I’m going to walk out of this office and fuck him in the sanctuary.”

That one shocked both Reggie and Pastor Boyd into a moment of absolute silence.  Then, the door slammed open, and Reggie jumped back with a start.  As soon as Lydia saw him, her twisted expression relaxed into a frown.

“Reggie, shoot, I—never mind, let’s get out of here.”  In a whirlwind, she grabbed his hand and dragged him back out of the building.  Pastor Boyd was still shouting something nonsensically angry, but at that moment, Reggie was absolutely not going to question her.  They made it to the car, and she climbed in without a word.  Reggie followed, and once the doors were shut, he looked over at her.

“So, uh, what’s the plan, Lydia?”

“Anywhere but here.” Her voice came out so small that he wasn’t sure he even heard her. “I just—I can’t deal with him right now.”

“Is he going to call the cops the second I pull out of here and report me for kidnapping?

She stifled a small laugh and shook her head. “No, he won’t.  He may be a jerk, but he’s way too proud to admit publicly that he might be having trouble disciplining his supposedly perfect little daughter.”

“Alrighty, then.” He shifted the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot. “So how do you feel about coming back to my place for a while?”

“Sounds good.” Her voice was back to normal now, but she could still barely look at him.  Reggie’s lips dipped into a frown.

“Hey.” He let go of the gear-shift and took her hand in his. “It’s okay, Lyds, really.”

She looked up at him, and her green eyes were watery. “You’re not mad about what you heard?  You’d have every right to be.”

“To be honest, not really.  Your dad has never liked me—most dads don’t.” He smirked. “Hell, at this point in my life, I’d be more shocked if a girl’s dad _did_ like me.”

She laughed a little, and his heart soared.  The only thing better than hearing her laugh was when he knew he was the one causing it. 

“I promise it really isn’t you,” she said, wiping her eyes to remove the last traces of tears. “He doesn’t hate you—he hates that he can’t control me anymore.”

“Once again, I wonder if we have the same dad,” Reggie joked.

Lydia cringed, shaking her head and trying not to laugh. “You know, that joke’s so much less funny now that we’ve made out.”

He laughed for real. “Yup, you’re definitely right there.  So, moving on.  My community service hours may be absolutely screwed for the day, but I’m still determined to make the most of my time with you.”

“Thank you, Reggie, so much.”

“Anytime, Lyds.”

When they got back to the house, they were greeted by a very enthusiastic, very wiggly Vader.  Immediately, Lydia crouched down to scratch his ears, earning another bout of wiggles.  Lydia laughed as he flopped onto his back, staring at her in a silent demand for belly rubs.

“Damn, dog,” Reggie laughed, crouching down next to her and flopping the dog’s ears around just enough to annoy him. “Trying to steal my girl already?”

Lydia rolled her eyes and looked at Reggie with a mischievous smile. “You do know he’s the only reason we’re friends, right?

“Yeah, I—” Reggie’s voice caught in his throat as he realized exactly what she’d just said.  _Friends._ The only reason we’re _friends_.  Sure, they hadn’t defined anything yet, but the thought of just being friends with Lydia made his chest feel like it was being ripped open.  Clearly, she also realized what she had said because she went quiet.

“Reggie, I—”

“No, it’s fine,” he cut her off, taking her hand and pulling them both to their feet. “It’s not like we’ve defined whatever this is yet.”

“Well then, what are we?” she asked, fixing those piercing eyes on him in a way that made his knees weak.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “What do you want us to be?” 

The silence that followed was downright painful as she considered her answer.  She was biting her lip, looking into the distance at something he knew he’d never be able to see.  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she looked up at him, her lips curved into a soft smile.

“Honestly, Reggie, I want us to be dating.” Her forwardness shocked him, but she kept going. “I may not be a good little Christian anymore, but that doesn’t mean I just want a hookup, and I would be absolutely devastated to find out I was just a number on some sort of list of conquests.”

“Lydia, I would never—”

“Don’t you dare say you would never do that, Reggie.  You told me I don’t deserve a guy who lies to me, so let’s not start our relationship with a lie—the whole school knows that you did that.” She sucked in a breath. “I know you, though, and I can see how much you’re changing, how hard you’re trying to be better.  I want to make this work, and I can tell that you do, too.  I like you way too much not to at least _try_.”

 “So do I, Lydia.” He closed the distance between them, resting his hands on her hips and holding her close.  Again, he found himself wanting nothing more than to kiss her, but he knew that that would have to wait, that he had to use his words instead of just kissing girls until all his problems disappeared. “I really, _really_ want to make this work.  I just—I’ve never been in a relationship like that before.  I don’t know how to be in a relationship like that.  What if I’m not good enough?”

“ _Be_ good enough, Reggie.” Her voice was so firm that it almost startled him. “I know you have it in you, and I need you to be good enough.” Then, her voice dropped slightly. “Not to mention, I don’t think I could go through this if you don’t.  I can’t lose someone else right now, Reggie, not in the state I’m in, so if you’re not going to be able to make a relationship work, we may as well call this whole damn thing off right now and go back to barely talking while you work.”

He tucked a lock of her soft brown hair behind her ear and thought about exactly how lucky he was, what an incredible opportunity he had been given. “I will be better, Lydia.  I’m not going to hurt you like that.  I promise.”

“Good.” With a wide smile, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Now, I’m going to need you to kiss me.”

“ _That_ I can do.” He bent down, pressed his lips into hers, and his mind went blank.  When they kissed, it was like everything in the world besides the two of them disappeared, and all that was left was the perfectly soft feeling of her body tucked into his.  Reggie had kissed a lot of girls in his life, but none of them were quite like this.  None of them made him feel that nervous, tingly feeling that started in his stomach and radiated through his entire body.  None of them were like her.

Vader’s barking forced them to separate, and Reggie let out a loud groan.  He looked down to see the tiny dog with a massive tennis ball in his mouth, ramming it into Lydia’s leg. “Jeez, Vader, cockblock much?”

Lydia laughed, bending down to pry the tennis ball out of his mouth. “I suppose you want me to throw this, don’t you?”

Vader barked in response, and Lydia laughed, tossing the ball and turning back to Reggie. “So, where did we leave off?”

He smirked and held her close. “Maybe something like this?” He kissed her again, smiling into the kiss.  Just as she parted her lips to draw him closer, though, Vader started barking again.

“He’s really not going to let us make out today, is he?” she asked.

“No, I don’t think he will.  I could always lock him in my room.”

“Reggie!”

“Fine, fine, I won’t lock him in my room.  It really is nice in there, though.  He has food, a bed, water, everything.”

“ _Reggie_.”

“Fine, I’ll throw the damn ball.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No particular warnings for this chapter. As always, Chuck is a major jerk who makes some gross comments, but nothing too extreme.
> 
> To all my readers, thanks so, so much! If this fic stays on track at 23 chapters, we're almost halfway there, and your feedback and comments honestly make such a huge difference in me staying motivated to update! Much love to you all!!

“I promise it’ll be fine, Lyds,” Reggie said, placing a soft kiss on my cheek. “Moose is going to be happy for us.”

The sinking feeling in my gut told me otherwise, but there wasn’t much I could do about it now.  Reggie had practically begged me to let him tell Moose.  It had only been four days since we’d kissed for the first time, less than that since we’d made it official, and he was like a kid with a secret that he just couldn’t keep in.  Sure, it was endearing, but I didn’t quite share Reggie’s optimism that his friend would be thrilled for us.

When Moose walked into Pop’s, though, he was smiling.  Not his huge, wide smile that I had come to love, but an equally genuine smaller one.

“How did I know this was going to be the surprise?” he drawled, sitting down across the booth from us and snagging one of Reggie’s fries. “Your secret-keeping ability is shit, Mantle.”

I felt about ready to climb over the table and hug him. “Moose, I’m so sorry I didn’t say something earlier, I—”

“Chill, Lydia,” he cut me off, placing a hand on mine and making me realize I had clenched it into a tight fist on the table. “We’ve been talking less since I started baseball and you started babysitting this guy—you don’t owe me updates or anything.”

Reggie wrapped his arm around my shoulders, holding me close and pressing a kiss into my temple. “Well, I knew I had to tell you, man, seeing as I’ve made you listen to me ramble about her for this long.”

“Hey, I’m happy for you guys,” he said, smiling more normally. “I won’t even pretend to understand how it happened, but I’m happy for you guys.”

I thought to myself that, of anyone, Moose would know how it happened.  He knew me and Reggie better than anyone—knew how similar our parents were.  Of course, our parents weren’t that similar on the surface, and I didn’t know often Reggie and Moose had heart-to-hearts.  Honestly, Moose and I had only had so many heart-to-hearts because we had both been on the same cycle of oscillating between being drunk and grieving for the past few months.  That, and—

I ripped myself out of my thoughts and back into reality when I realized where my head was going.  Thinking about that night was not allowed, especially not right now when I was supposed to be having a good time with my friend and my boyfriend. 

Boyfriend.  Even thinking the word was hard.  Boyfriend.  We had agreed that was what we wanted to call it.  Reggie was my boyfriend.

“Lydia,” Reggie sang, “Lydia, earth to Lydia.”

“Oh, shoot, I’m sorry,” I said, blinking a few times in an attempt to clear my head.

“Everything okay?” he asked, a note of concern creeping into his voice as his hand moved comfortingly to my thigh.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine.  Just zoning out a little.”

Moose gave me a look, and I knew that he knew _exactly_ what I was actually thinking about. “Well, Lydia, we were just saying that Chuck’s having a party tonight, and I’m definitely in.  How about you?  Feeling ready to turn up?”

“I—umm—”

“How about we catch up with you after we finishing eating?” Reggie suggested, saving me from answering by gesturing to his half-eaten basket of fries. “I’ll text you if we end up coming.”

“Sounds good, man.” Moose got up from the booth, did some incredibly bro-y handshake with Reggie, and squeezed my shoulder lightly. “See you later, Lyds.”

“See you later, Moose.”

Once Moose was out of the diner, Reggie pulled me in close for a kiss, something he had clearly been dying to do since before Moose sat down. “See, told you he would be happy for us.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, relaxing immediately into his arms. “I can’t believe I ever doubted you,” I murmured.

He brushed my hair off my face and looked at me closely. “So, I take it you don’t want to go to the party tonight?”

“Not particularly.”

“Why not?  I thought you went to parties now.”

“I have been, but—” I exhaled slowly, leaning away from him slightly. “But isn’t it kind of soon for us to—I just—I’m not sure I’m ready for that, Reggie.  Parties do still stress me out a little bit, and being around all your friends would stress me out a lot.  I mean, you can totally still go if you want to, but I know that I wouldn’t have any fun, so I’ll just stay home, and—”

“Shh,” he cut me off, moving his hand from my shoulder to my cheek, running his thumb across my cheekbone. “Lydia, I don’t really want to go without you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay.”

He pulled my head toward him, placing a soft kiss on my forehead.  The heat of his lips seemed to radiate through my whole body, and for a moment, I could forget all the secrets that were burning a hole in my stomach.

“So, want to come to my house or something?  We can watch a movie, play with Vader, whatever you want to do.”

“That sounds perfect.”

* * *

 

We walked up to Reggie’s house hand-in-hand, and in the short time it took to drive over, he had completely turned my mood around.  It was amazing how he had a way of doing that—of being so damn cheerful that I couldn’t help but feel better.  I was laughing at some stupid joke he made when we walked into the kitchen, and he jerked to a halt. 

Mr. and Mrs. Mantle were just sitting there, a drink in front of each of them, but the tension was downright palpable.  Reggie’s grip on my hand tightened almost painfully, and I knew immediately that he hadn’t told them yet.

“Mom, Dad,” he finally said. “I didn’t know you’d be home.”

“Your dad’s business dinner was canceled,” his mom answered, getting up from the table and walking over to us.  She had immediately taken on an overly-friendly, cheerful persona that I recognized from the few times I had met her at church.  Like always, she was dressed absolutely impeccably, her red dress the perfect balance of professional and beautiful.  Just being near her made me feel like a slob. “Lydia, it’s so good to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Mrs. Mantle,” I replied, sucking in a deep breath and turning on a level of cheerfulness that rivaled hers.  In my life as a pastor’s daughter, I had learned a lot of useless skills.  However, I had also mastered the art of being perfectly pleasant no matter how horrible I felt beneath the surface. 

“Reggie, you didn’t tell us that you’d be bringing Lydia over,” she said smiling at him in a way that almost looked genuine. “I would have made sure there was dinner.”

“No problem, Mom,” he said, his grip on my hand finally loosening. “We stopped at Pop’s earlier.”

“Good, sweetie.” She turned to look back at her husband. “Marty, aren’t you going to say hello?”

He set down his drink, the glass hitting the wooden table with a loud thud, and I felt Reggie’s grip on my hand tighten again.  So subtly that I almost didn’t notice, he angled himself in front of me.

“Hello, Reggie.  Hello, Lydia,” he said, looking us over with unimpressed detachment.

“Well, we’re going to be in the basement,” Reggie said quickly, now fully pulling me behind himself as he started walking toward the stairs. “See you guys later.”

Before either of them had a chance to respond, the door was shut behind us, and Reggie was moving down the stairs so fast that I was worried about losing my footing and collapsing on top of him.  We reached the basement, and before I had much of a chance to explore the massive space, Reggie flopped onto a huge leather couch, hitting a button on the remote to dim the lights.  I sat down next to him, taking his hand in mine and scooting in close.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Then we won’t.” I kicked off my shoes and snuggled in closer, tucking myself under his arm and lightly kissing his jaw. “What movie are we going to watch?”

He gave me a puzzled look, his perfect features furrowing. “You’re going to let this go?”

“Of course, I am, Reg.  We may be dating now, but I completely understand boundaries.  Based on what you’ve told me, your parents kind of suck.  I get that, and I know that I sure don’t like talking about mine all that much.  So, no, I won’t push the issue.  Just know that I’m here for you if you want to talk about it.”  

“Thank you.” He gave me a slow kiss, running his hand through my hair and pulling me nearly onto his lap. “Thank you so much, Lydia.”

“Of course, Reggie,” I murmured, not wanting to pull my lips away from his.

“So, movie, how do you feel about Star Wars?”

I laughed, resting my head on his shoulder. “I have to admit that I’ve never seen any of them.”

“What?” he laughed, lifting up my head and forcing me to look at him. “How have you never seen a Star Wars movie?  Vader would be so offended.”

“Speaking of Vader, where is he?” I asked, realizing this was the first time I’d been in the Mantle house without being immediately greeted by the little dog.

“Probably in my room,” he replied. “If I’m not going to be home, the housekeeper puts him in there since she knows my dad’s not his biggest fan.”

“Good.” I smirked. “I don’t know how I could ever pay attention to a movie if I was worrying about Vader.”

“Damn, Lydia,” he chuckled. “I’m starting to think you really do like my dog more than me.”

“Nah, you’re pretty cool, too.” I rested my hand on his chest, fiddling absentmindedly with the string of his hoodie. “So, Star Wars, if I haven’t seen any, which should we start with?”

“Definitely _A New Hope_ ,” he answered, grabbing the remote to click through the menus. “It’s not the first chronologically, but it was the first one made, so it’s really the only logical place to start.” He reached around me to yank a blanket off the back of the couch and spread it over us. “You ready for the greatest movie experience of your life?”

The excitement in his eyes was contagious, and I couldn’t help but smile. “So ready.”

* * *

 

“So, what’d you think?” Reggie murmured, his lips brushing against my temple. “Bearing in mind that our entire relationship is hinging on your enthusiastically positive opinion.”

“Have I ever mentioned that you’re a massive nerd?” I asked, trying not to yawn.

“I believe you have.  Back to the relevant conversation, though—what’d you think of the movie?”

I rolled my eyes. “I actually really liked it. “

“Good, because I really like you.”

“I really like you too.”

We were curled together on the couch, having sunk deeper and deeper into each other as the movie went on.  Now, the movie was over, and I still didn’t want to move.  Moving slowly, Reggie cupped my jaw and pulled my face to his.  I thought some time being with him would lessen the intoxicating effect he had on me, but it didn’t.  Every time he kissed me, it felt like my entire brain turned into mush.  His hands drifted down my shoulders to my waist, tugging me nearly onto his lap.  Reacting instinctively, I slid onto his lap, putting my legs on either side of his.

A low groan started in the back of his throat, and he gripped me tighter, his fingertips digging almost painfully into my hipbones.  I ran my hand through his hair, holding him close as his lips trailed down my jaw to my neck.

“Reggie,” I breathed, tipping my head back to allow him more access. “Oh my God…”

He smirked into my neck, pressing soft kisses into the sensitive skin there. “That’s it, angel, relax.”

Soft gasps escaped my parted lips, and his mouth seemed to be leaving a trail of fire in its wake.  My shirt had started riding up, and suddenly, his hands were on the exposed skin of my waist.  The realization snapped me out of the moment, and I tensed.  Immediately, Reggie pulled back, noticing the change in my demeanor.

“Lyds, is everything okay?” His voice was low and rough, like he needed to catch his breath as much as I did.

“Yeah, I just—” I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself.  I couldn’t do that with his hands on my hips, though.  I covered his hands with mine, pushing them down and pulling my shirt back into place. “This is all still so new, Reggie, and I—”

“Hey, relax.”  He moved his hands back to my waist and pressed a soft kiss into my lips. “We can take this as slow as you want to, Lydia.  Seriously, there are no expectations.”

“Really?” I brushed his hair out of his eyes and held his gaze. “I know that’s not what you want, and—”

“Lydia Tabitha Boyd, don’t presume to tell me what I want.” He grinned. “Right now, all I want is to spend as much time as humanly possible with you, and while I would obviously be thrilled to spend a portion of that time getting to know you physically…” He ticked my sides, earning a giggle, “I’m far more interested in just being with you, in whatever way possible.”

“Why, Reggie?” my voice came out barely above a whisper. “You’ve never been in a relationship like this before.  What about me is any different?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know—I mean, it’s hard to put into words.  All I know is that right now, my life feels like it’s spinning out of control.  Since the Black Hood, nothing’s made sense.  When I’m with you, though, Lydia, everything makes sense.  Something about you makes me feel like everything might just be okay.”

“Okay.” I nodded, my lips curving into a soft smile. “Okay.  That means a lot to me, Reggie, really.”  There was a pause, and then my grin turned into a full-blown smile. “Now, how the heck did you know my middle name was Tabitha?”

He laughed, sliding me off his lap so his head didn’t bump into mine. “I heard it when you and your dad were fighting the other day, and I knew I had to tuck that little gem away for the perfect moment.” He smirked. “C’mon, Tabitha?”

“Jerk,” I shoved him. “It’s Biblical.”

“Of course, it is,” he laughed.

“So’s Lydia, you know.  My parents are so extra that they couldn’t just give me one Biblical name, they had to give me two.  At least they didn’t stick me with Jezebel or Zipporah or something completely horrible.”

“I don’t know, babe,” he said with a smirk. “You’d probably make a great Jezebel.”

I rolled my eyes. “You really never paid attention in Sunday School, did you?”

“Nope, not a bit.”

“Well then, how about you shut up and kiss me.”

“Gladly.”

* * *

 

“Dude, so good to see you back from the dead, man,” Chuck joked, smacking Reggie on the back so hard he almost dropped his beer on the guy he was talking to. “Where the hell were you last night?”

“Christ, dude, can a guy take a night off without being interrogated for it?” Reggie laughed, shoving him back. “I was busy.”

“With what?” Chuck asked, his voice barely audible over the booming music. “Or maybe the better question is with _who_?”

“Ha, ha.” Reggie downed his beer and started walking toward the keg for a refill.  As Chuck walked with him, he realized just how drunk his friend was.  Clearly, he had been making the most of the Lodge’s free booze. “Trust me, man, you’d be the first person I tell if I was.”

“I’m just saying, man, you’ve been in a long-ass dry spell,” he slurred.  “I’m worried about you.”

“Why are we worried about Reggie?” Moose asked, overhearing part of their conversation as they approached the keg.  He smirked at Reggie. “Is it time to cut you off, Reg?”

“Not a chance, Mason.” He rolled his eyes and refilled his cup.  There was not enough beer in the world to deal with Chuck when he got like this.  Even in his prime, before all the shit went down with his conviction, Reggie had a hard time dealing with wasted Chuck.

“Nah, we just need to get him some ass.” Chuck tossed his arm around Reggie’s shoulder. “Poor guy’s practically screaming for it.” Chuck reached up and squeezed his face. “Look at him—this is the face of a man who needs to get a girl naked.”

Moose rolled his eyes, taking a sip of beer to cover whatever expression he might be making. “Sure looks like it.”

Reggie shot Moose a grateful look—he hadn’t explicitly told him to keep his and Lydia’s relationship quiet, but as always, Moose came in clutch.

“’Ey, Josie,” Chuck shouted, seeing her across the room and signaling her over. “C’mere for a second.”

Josie walked over, a fruity pink drink in hand.  She looked Chuck over, giving him an unimpressed look when she saw just how drunk he was. “What do you need, Clayton?”

“I need you to give my friend here a blowjob,” Chuck replied with a sloppy grin.

“Fuck, dude, shut the fuck up,” Moose said, shaking his head. “That’s disgusting.”

“What?  I bet Reggie-boy would love to get a blowjob from Josie, wouldn’t he?” Chuck shoved him again, but he was so wobbly it just came off as stumble.

“Josie, you don’t have to stand here and listen to him,” Reggie said, giving her an apologetic look.

“Trust me, Reg, I won’t.” She shot Chuck a hard glare and then looked back at Reggie. “But if you want to hang out, let me know.”

“Will do, Jo.” Reggie took another big sip of his drink, hoping that he’d finally be free from this miserable conversation.  Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen, though.  As Chuck stumbled off with Moose in tow, he was left alone with Josie. “Seriously, I’m sorry about what Chuck said, Jo—he’s—”

“He’s an ass.  I know.” She took a step closer to him, setting down her now-empty drink cup on the keg. “I _was_ looking for you, though.  It’s been too long since we’ve hung out, Reggie.”

Reggie looked down at her—her low-cut shirt left little to the imagination, and the look she was giving him made him want to do entirely indecent things. “It has, hasn’t it?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say Chuck was right, that you do have another girl somewhere.” She rested a hand on his chest, and he tensed, smelling the alcohol on her breath. “What do you say we sneak off to the pool house for a little bit?  I’ve missed you, Reg.”

“I—um—Josie—I—” Her hand started drifting down his chest, and he bit his lip hard.  It was so damn tempting, so damn easy to be with her, and it sounded so good right now.  He had to shut that down, though.  That was his old way of thinking, a before-Lydia way of thinking.  He imagined her face, her sweet smile, the way she looked at him like he was all she could possibly want. “Josie, I can’t right now.”

She took a step back, a hurt look crossing her face. “Oh, okay.”

“It’s not you, Josie, seriously.  I just—I have some stuff going on.”

“Okay, sure.” She snatched her cup off the top of the keg and started walking. “See you later, Reggie.”

“See you— _fuck_ ,” he swore, not bothering to finish the phrase.  She had already disappeared into the crowd of dancing bodies.  Downing the rest of his beer, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to see the notification light blinking.  It was a text from Lydia.  His heart started to race, like she had seen what had just gone down, seen how close he was to cracking.  It wasn’t angry or accusative, though.  It was just a response to the last text he had sent hours earlier, letting her know that he was heading to the party.

_OK, I’ll see you Monday then. Goodnight!!! <3_


	11. Chapter 11

As Reggie walked around Picken's Park with Moose and Chuck, he couldn’t help but feel tired.  Every year, they got off baseball early for the day to go to the massive fair, and it was always a highlight of the summer.  While Reggie would never admit it to his friends, he loved the fair.  Everything about it, from the rides, to the games, to the food, made him feel like a kid in all the best possible ways.  This year, though, the fact that he had to spend it with Chuck was making it entirely unpleasant.

“What about her, man?  The blonde over there?” Chuck offered, pointing to a girl Reggie was pretty sure might not even be in high school yet. “She looks like your type, Moose.”           

Moose cringed, clearly agreeing with Reggie’s assessment. “What the fuck do you think my type is, man?  Looks like my kid sister?”

Chuck laughed and took another bite of his corndog. “Nah, man, but you sure are into the innocent type.  I mean, c’mon, Lydia Boyd?”

Reggie’s fists clenched, and he had to take a slow breath to keep himself from snapping.  Moose just rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, dude, what’s your obsession with me and Lydia?” Moose asked. “I don’t know how many times I need to tell you we’re just friends.”

“I just can’t stop thinking of the possibilities, man.  Isn’t it time for a rebound?”

Before Moose had to dignify him with a response, they were interrupted by a bright laugh that made Reggie’s head fly up.  Lydia.  She was with someone he didn’t recognize—a pretty black girl that he almost thought was Josie at first.  She was shorter, though, with hair that was more wavy than curly. 

“Boyd!” Moose called, grabbing her and pulling her into a brotherly headlock to muss up her hair. “How’s it going?”

“Fine, Moose,” she laughed, wiggling free of his grasp.  She barely looked at Chuck before smiling at Reggie, a subtle smile that no one else would recognize as more than friendly. “Hey, Reggie.”

“Hey, Lydia,” he replied, glad that he somehow managed to produce coherent, English words. 

Chuck, who had completely disregarded Lydia’s snub, was pushing around Reggie to get to the girls.  He held his hand out to introduce himself to the unfamiliar one. “Chuck Clayton,” he said, putting on his most charming grin.

“Nancy Woods,” she replied, smiling shyly as she shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Chuck.”

Moose and Lydia had instinctively looked to each other, their cringes mirror images of each other as they tried not to burst into laughter.  Reggie wasn’t oblivious to how in-synch they seemed to be, so he took a step closer, positioning himself on the other side of Lydia.  It took all the self-control he had not to wrap his arm possessively around her.  She seemed to sense it and took a step closer to him.

Meanwhile, Chuck and Nancy were already in their own little world, something that Reggie was decidedly relieved about.

“So, Lydia,” he said, fighting to stay casual. “Who’s Nancy?”

She laughed, rolling her eyes slightly. “My latest task at the church.  Her family just moved to Riverdale, and my father ever-so-kindly asked me if I could spend some time with her, introduce her to some people, you know.”

Moose nodded, looking appraisingly at the happy couple. “Well, it seems like your mission’s accomplished.”

“Sure does,” she drawled.

As if on cue, Nancy turned around, her smile wide. “Hey, Lydia, sorry to bail, but do you mind if I hang out with Chuck for a while?  I can get a different ride home, and—”

“You’re fine, Nancy,” she replied, smiling knowingly. “See you later.”

“See you later!” She and Chuck walked off, and Chuck looked back at his friends, making a startlingly obscene gesture and earning a shocked look from Lydia.

“Jeez,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Why do you two even hang out with him?”

Moose shrugged. “If I’m being perfectly honest, he’s too damn hard to avoid between football, baseball, and wrestling.  You also learn to tune it out after a while.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Gross.”

Reggie chuckled. “Well, Lyds, now that you’ve been ditched want to hang out with us?”

“Are you sure?” she asked, looking between the two of them with a smirk. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on bro-time.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Moose said before she could answer. “My mom just texted me that she’s here with the kids and could use some help, so I think I’m going to ditch you guys for them.”

“Lame,” Lydia teased, shoving him slightly. “I suppose I can’t guilt you too much for being a good brother, though.  See you later, Moose.”

“See you guys, later,” he replied, winking at Reggie as he left.

Once Moose was out of earshot, Reggie took a small step closer to Lydia, being careful not to get too close. “Still want to hang out?” he asked, his voice quiet. “I mean, this is kind of public, and—”

“Hey,” she cut him off. “It’s fine.  I mean—” she exhaled slowly and then looked up at him with a smile. “People are going to have to find out eventually, right?”

“One would think,” he replied, his lips curving into a smile. “What does that mean?  That we’re not keeping this a secret anymore?”

“It was never _really_ a secret,” she drawled, “just a thing that we weren’t announcing to the world.”

“How do you feel about announcing it to the world?”

“The whole world sounds a little extra, but…” She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing up on her tiptoes to get closer to eye level. “I definitely don’t mind if everyone at the fair finds out.”

Reggie pressed his lips into hers, grabbing her waist and pulling her close.  Even though the odds of anyone in vicinity giving a damn were low, the kiss was somehow even better knowing that anyone could see, that everyone would know she was his.  This would be the last time he would have to take everyone’s shit about being single, the last time Chuck would make a comment about Lydia and Moose, the last time he’d have to pretend he wasn’t falling head over heels for the most amazing girl he’d ever met.

* * *

 

“C’mon, Reggie,” I laughed, crossing my arms. “This is ridiculous—you’re never going to win.”

He scoffed and handed the man behind the game counter another dollar. “Babe, babe, babe,” he drawled, stretching his arms to prepare for another throw. “I can’t believe you’d ever doubt me when it comes to carnival games.”

I rolled my eyes. “Says the man who’s spent close to twenty dollars in his attempt to get a ring on a bottle.”

“Twenty bucks is nothing, Lyds.” He tossed another ring and groaned loudly when it fell just short. “You just start working on what prize you’re getting when I win.”

I laughed and took another sip of lemonade as I watched him continue to struggle.  Despite his natural ease with throwing, he was much less skilled with the little plastic rings than with a football.  With his eyes narrowed in concentration and his lower lit caught between his teeth, he somehow managed to make a dumb carnival game hot. 

With a clatter, a ring landed perfectly on top of the middle bottle, and Reggie grabbed me by the waist to pull me close for a kiss.  Laughing, I kissed him, doing the best to keep my lemonade upright. “You did it, Reg.”

“I sure did.  And now, you have the honor of picking whichever prize you’d like.”

Rolling my eyes, I turned to asses my options.  There was all the standard fare—inflatable aliens, plushie cartoon characters, cheap stuffed animals—nothing particularly special.  Then, tucked in the corner, I saw a stuffed brown dog with huge, floppy ears. “Can I get the dog in the corner?”

“Sure thing, ma’am,” the man replied, handing it to me. “Thanks for playing, kids.”

Reggie thanked him with a nod, draping his arm around my shoulders as we started to walk. “What made you pick the dog?”

“Reminds me of Vader,” I replied, holding it in front of us to show him. “It’s got the same ears.”

“I suppose it does,” he laughed. “So, of course, it needs a Star Wars themed name.”

“Why of course.  I wouldn’t dream of anything else.” I kissed him lightly on the cheek. “And what does my Star Wars-expert boyfriend propose?”

“Chewy.”

“As in Chewbacca?”

He grinned. “Not quite.”

“What then?” I asked skeptically, already ready to roll my eyes at whatever dumb joke he was about to make.

He was biting his lip in an attempt to hold back a laugh. “Chewbarka.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groaned as he burst out in laughter. “Why are all of your jokes so bad?”

“I don’t know—why do you always laugh at them?”

“Probably because you’re so cute.”

“I’ll take it.”

* * *

I didn’t even hear Reggie when he came in on Monday morning.  I had been too absorbed in the piano—the way my fingers were dancing across the keys.  They were the same hymns I had known my whole life, the ones we had sung in church since I was a little girl and I had been playing in church since I was in middle school.  When I played them alone, though, it felt like they were just for me. 

“Hey, you,” he said, sliding onto the piano bench and pressing a kiss into my temple. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I replied, attempting to keep myself from blushing as I turned to face him. “I take it my dad left already?”

“He wasn’t here when I got here,” he said, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“You can interrupt my playing any time.” I pulled the lid of the piano shut. “Anyways, I suppose you want to know what you’re doing today.”

“Not really,” he replied with a smirk. “I’d much rather sit here and talk to you.  There was actually something I wanted to ask you about your music.”

“What’s that?”

“Why hymns?  You always tell me that you’re not really solid on the whole religion thing anymore, but they’re all I ever hear you play.”

“Yeah…” I paused, not sure how much I really wanted to tell him. “I guess it’s just because they’re so familiar.  It’s kind of comforting, you know.  My faith may not be super solid lately, but I can’t deny how big of a part of my life it is.  It’s like, when everything else is confusing and stressful, the hymns are still exactly the same, and they’ve been the same for hundreds of years.  There’s something really comforting about that.”

He nodded, and then his eyebrows furrowed. “What’s confusing and stressful right now?”

I sighed, running my hand through my hair and glancing up at the ever-present Jesus statue. “Midge,” I admitted. “It’s always Midge.”

He laced his fingers with mine, running his thumb over the back of my hand. “Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know.” I looked up at him, and the concern in his dark eyes made me want to crumple into his arms and cry. “It’s just—I like what we have, Reggie.  It’s one of the first thing’s that’s made me feel normal in ages.  I just can’t help but think about what’s next, what’s going to happen when school starts again.  She was my only friend, Reg, the only person who seemed to be able to see me as more than the shy pastor’s daughter.  I don’t know how I’m going to go back to school without her in the fall.”

“Well, you’ll have me, and you’ll have Moose.”

_Moose_.  That was absolutely not the name I needed to hear at that moment.  Just another thing to feel crappy about.  I took a steadying breath. “Thanks, Reggie.” Shaking it off, I looked up at him. “So, work today.”

“Work today,” he repeated, taking the hint that the conversation was over. “What’s on the agenda, beautiful?”

Trying to ignore what was sure to be a heated blush, I continued. “Yardwork—all the usual stuff.”

“Can do, boss.” He grinned. “And I take it you’re going to sit around and stare at me through the office window?”

“You wish, perv,” I laughed, shoving him slightly. “Just keep your clothes on, all right?  This is a church, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He stood up, pulling me close for a quick kiss. “You know where to find me if you need me.”

“Thanks, Reg.  Now, get to work, or I’m going to start cutting hours.”

* * *

 

When I got back to the office, Reggie was already driving the lawn mower around the yard.  Surprisingly no one, his shirt was off.  All I could do was roll my eyes—it wasn’t that hot or that sunny out, so it was obviously just for my benefit.  I hated that it worked, but it really was hard to rip my eyes away from him.  He was just that hot.  Sometimes, I couldn’t believe that he could even be into me—that Reggie Mantle, one of the hottest, most popular guys in Riverdale was dating me, the awkward church girl. 

Maybe I wasn’t as awkward as I thought, though.  After all, Reggie wasn’t the first guy who had been into me.  There had also been—

_Why the hell was it so damn hard to even think about it?_   It’s not like I could keep the secret from myself—I knew what I had done with Moose, how a moment of drunken weakness had changed everything and nearly destroyed our friendship.  _That’s_ why he and I had drifted apart, not just because I’d gotten closer to Reggie, but because I almost ruined everything by sleeping with him. 

No matter how much I tried to tell myself that I didn’t regret what happened, there was an overwhelmingly loud part of me that did.  That part of me, the voice that had been coaching me since before puberty to guard my heart, to save my purity, was getting louder every day.  Every time I saw Reggie with his shirt off or felt his lips on my neck, the voice practically started screaming at me that I was fast-tracked on my way to hell.

It made me nervous, not because I was worried about hell—that was probably a given at this point—but because of Reggie.  Reggie had had sex before, plenty of times.  When it came to experience, he was basically the opposite of me.  He knew what he was doing and what he wanted, and what he wanted was me.  The thought made my stomach tingle in a way I wasn’t sure was nerves or excitement.  It was probably both since there was no way I’d ever be able to live up to expectations, no way I ever could.

Outside the window, Reggie drove the lawnmower past the church, winking at me when he saw me looking.  I laughed, and he smiled in response.  His grin was so wide that it made my stomach turn.  Sighing, I closed the open window on my computer.  There was no way I’d be getting anything done.

* * *

 

My fingers closed around my phone, silencing the vibration.  Another text from Reggie—this time some sort of Star Wars gif that I was sure he was laughing at more than me.  I couldn’t help but smile, though—Ewoks just had that effect on me.  I started scrolling through my gifs folder for a response, but my bedroom door slammed open, sending the cat screaming down the stairs.

“What the hell?” I snapped, flying upright. “Noah?”

“Did you just swear?” he asked, jerking to a stop so quickly it was almost comical. “Like, an actual swear word?”

“Yeah, I did.  I feel like that’s an appropriate reaction when your brother, who’s supposed to be at school three hours away, barges into your room at almost ten o’clock at night.” I clicked off my phone and set it on the nightstand. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was having my absolutely horrible weekly phone call with Dad yesterday when he told me something surprising.” He sat down on the foot of the bed, fixing his hard, green eyes on me. “Are you seriously dating Reggie Mantle?”

I groaned, falling back on the bed and yanking my pillow on top of my face. “Did you seriously drive all the way back to Riverdale to lecture me on my love life?”

He wrestled the pillow out of my hands, tossing it onto the floor and forcing me to look at him. “So, he wasn’t bullshitting me?”

“Oh, look who’s swearing now.”

“ _Lydia_.”

“Fine, no, Dad wasn’t lying.  Reggie and I are dating.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He flew off the bed, throwing his hands in the air and scaring the cat who had just crept back in. “Reggie Mantle?  You do know what he’s like, right?  That he was one of the douchebags that created that Playbook, right?  That he attempted murder?”

“Yes, Noah!” I snapped, standing up to face him, my fists clenching at my sides. “I do know what he’s like—better than you, actually.  I’m the one who’s dating him, after all.”

“And I think that’s the dumbest mistake you’ve ever made.”

My breath caught, and I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my voice steady. “You don’t know a damn thing about what mistakes I’ve made, Noah, so don’t you dare presume to tell me which one is the worst.”

His face softened, and he gave me a look that was probably supposed to be sympathetic but only managed to make me feel immeasurably guilty. “Shit, Lydia, I’m sorry.  I just—shit, I’m just worried about you, kid.  You’re my little sister, and I played football with the guy last year, so I know how horribly he’s treated girls.  I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“And I don’t want to get hurt,” I replied, taking a deep breath in an attempt to keep my voice steady. “Trust me, Noah, I’ve been hurt enough lately, and I’m not going to deliberately put myself in a bad situation.”

“How do you know you can trust him?”

“How do I know I can trust anyone?” I sat down on the bed, dropping my head into my hands. “That’s just it—I can’t know how this is going to end.  All I know is that right now, he’s amazing.  Right now, he’s treating me so well that it barely feels real.”

“What if it’s not?” His voice was soft, but it would have hurt less had he been screaming.

I couldn’t admit that he had just found my absolute biggest fear and dragged it to the surface.  He was right—there was a chance that the whole thing would go up in flames.  It wouldn’t be because of Reggie, though, it would be because of everything else.  I didn’t doubt _his_ intentions for a second.  What I doubted was the fact that we were just so different.  Sure, we connected on a really deep, personal level, but we came from completely different worlds.  Even if we were both all-in, that gap might just be too big to bridge.

Finally, I managed a reply. “Then he’s the best damn liar in the world.”

Noah’s concern hadn’t faded even slightly during my long moment of silence, and he just looked at me expectantly.

“I don’t think he is, though,” I added. “We’ve spent a lot of time together lately, even before there was something between us, and we’ve seen each other pretty damn close to our lowest.  He cares about me, Noah, and I care about him, so much more than we ever thought we would.  Maybe it will all go up in flames, maybe it won’t, but I know I’d be downright miserable if I didn’t at least try.  As far as I’m aware, this is the only life I’m getting, and I don’t intend to waste it being afraid of ever getting close to anyone.”

He sighed, sitting down next to me.  Wrapping his arm around me, he held me close. “I guess you’re really not my baby sister anymore, Lydia.  You’re starting to sound smarter than me.”

“I am smarter than you,” I murmured.

“But I’m better looking.”

“I’ll let you have it.”


	12. Chapter 12

Hearing nothing but heavy breathing behind him, Reggie turned around, jogging backward and trying not to laugh.  Lydia looked like she wanted to kill him.  Luckily, she also looked like she barely had the energy to stay upright, much less attempt murder.

“Come on, Lyds, we’re almost there .”

She choked out a response that was somewhere between a cheer and a curse, giving him a look that would have made a weaker man crumble.  Somehow, they managed to make it back to the house, though, and Lydia immediately slid onto the floor to pet Vader.

“Want some water, babe?” he asked, barely winded after the short run.

She grunted in response, and he took it as a yes.  He walked into the kitchen, got two glasses of water and returned to see both Lydia and Vader lying on their backs, Lydia rubbing his stomach.

“Vader, you’re so lucky he doesn’t make you go running,” she said, her voice coming out a little more evenly.

“Babe, look at his little legs—he’d never keep up.”

“Babe, look at my little legs,” she replied, gesturing to her legs splayed out in front of her. “I couldn’t keep up.”

Reggie laughed and took her hands to pull her to her feet. “I think you did pretty damn good for someone who spends most of their time locked in a church basement.” He held her waist, not oblivious to the way her leggings and athletic tank-top were more form-fitting than anything he’d ever seen her in. 

“Aw, thanks, Reg,” she laughed, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him.  Then, she pulled back and grinned. “I’m never going running with you again, though.  You’re just in too damn good of shape—it’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is how hot you look in that outfit,” he murmured, tickling her sides and pressing a kiss into her neck.

Lydia giggled and pressed in tighter, clutching his shoulders. “Reggie.”

“What?” he laughed, kissing his way down her neck. “Can’t a guy be grateful for his insanely hot girlfriend?”

“No, you can.” She regripped his shoulders, trying to pull herself to his level.  Reggie took the cue and ran his hands down her side to her thighs, lifting her up.  She wrapped her legs around him, earning a low moan.  Reggie took a few steps towards the wall, pressing her into it with a grunt.  Lydia’s body was so soft against his, and even after running, the fruity-floral scent of her hair was intoxicating.  Between that and the way she was moaning into his lips, it made him want to drag her upstairs right there.

He ran his hands up her sides, pushing her shirt up until he could feel the heated skin of her ribcage under his hands.  She moaned, just about to relax, and then she tensed.  Reggie stopped immediately, dropping her back onto her feet and pulling his lips away from hers to look at her.

Lydia’s eyes were still shut, her lips slightly parted and red from the heated kissing.  Then, she opened her eyes and fixed them on him.

“Reg, I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft.

“No, Lyds, it’s fine.  You never have to apologize for wanting to slow down.  I mean, I know you haven’t done much before, and—” he cut off, seeing a look he didn’t recognize. “Lydia, are you okay?”

She shook her head, resting her forehead on his shoulder so he couldn’t see her face.  A moment passed, and he realized that she was crying.  Reggie froze—he had seen Lydia on the brink of crying a couple times since he’d known her, but he had never actually seen it happen.  She was definitely crying now, though, and Reggie had no idea what to do other than hold on to her.  He had never been one for dealing with emotions, and as she cried into his shoulder, it was becoming increasingly obvious that he was completely clueless.

“Fuck, Reggie, I’m sorry, I—” She sniffled, wiping her eyes and trying to get away from him.  He gave her some space, letting her pace across the foyer, drying her eyes.

“Lydia, what’s going on?” He wanted to pull her back into his arms, but even he could tell that wasn’t what she needed at that moment.

“I feel like I’m lying to you, Reggie.”

The words were a knife through his gut, and he struggled to make his next words come out. “What do you mean?”

Seeing his face, she rushed toward him, stopping just before they were touching. “No, shit, no, I haven’t actually lied.  I just—I never told you something.  I—I’m—fuck.”

Reggie had no idea what was coming, but his heart wouldn’t stop pounding.  Whatever it was, this was the most he’d ever heard Lydia swear, the only time he’d seen her cry.  There was no way this was going to be good.

“I’m not a virgin, Reggie,” she finally said, and his heart immediately slowed. “And I feel like absolute shit about it.  I never meant for it to happen—we were drunk and sad, and—God, it fucking ruined everything.”

She didn’t need to say it out loud for him to put it together.  The name left his mouth before he could even process it. “Moose.”

She nodded, looking so damn miserable that she could barely stand.

Reggie closed the gap between them, pulling her into a tight hug as his mind exploded with an entire spectrum of emotions.  Everything, from rage to sadness to relief, was flooding through him.  More important than any of that, though, was concern—concern for the amazing girl wrapped in his arms who was too ashamed to even look him in the eyes.

“Aren’t you mad?” she whispered, her face pressed into his chest. “You have every right to be mad.”

“Mad?” he asked, baffled by how much the word didn’t describe how he was feeling. “Shit, Lydia, no, I’m not mad.  Whoever you had a relationship with before you were with me is none of my business.  And hell, I would be a _massive_ hypocrite to judge you for sleeping with someone.”

Her eyes were watering again when she looked up at him. “Then what are you upset about?”

The question forced him to think about it— _what was he upset about?_   Something was causing a horrible gnawing in his stomach, but it definitely wasn’t that she wasn’t a virgin.  It hit him.  He wasn’t mad at Lydia, not by a long shot.  He wasn’t even really mad at Moose, either.  Reggie was feeling something that he was deeply uncomfortable with—jealousy. 

He couldn’t stop imagining Moose and Lydia, in Moose’s basement, his huge body on top of her tiny one.  He wanted it to be him, for him to be the first one Lydia trusted like that.  Until that moment, he thought he would be.  It wasn’t even that she wasn’t a virgin—that was the farthest thing from Reggie’s mind—it was that his best friend had slept with his girlfriend before he had.  His best friend had slept with this girl that he was falling impossibly hard for before he had even considered the possibility.  He absolutely couldn’t tell Lydia that, though.  It would just sound dumb, and she’d almost certainly take it personally.  He’d have to come up with a shortened version.

“Well,” he started slowly, choosing his words carefully. “It’s absolutely not you, so don’t even think for a second I’m upset with you, understood?”

She chuckled slightly, blinking away a few tears. “Man, you know me too well.”

“What?  That you tend to blame yourself for things?  Yeah, I’ve noticed.” He pressed a soft kiss on her forehead, her light sigh of relief giving him the strength to keep going. “This is so dumb, Lyds, but I’m jealous.  In the dumbest, most douchey way, I’m jealous that my best friend slept with you.”

“And you haven’t,” she finished, saying the words he didn’t want to. “You haven’t because Moose got drunk, depressed me, and you’re getting the slightly more stable, still annoyingly Christian me that’s convinced I’m worthless because I threw away my one selling point in a moment of weakness.”

“Woah, there, Lydia,” he said, taking her shoulders and forcing her to look up at him. “Let’s pause for a sec and shut that down right now.  I know that you’ve had people who have no business with your sex life telling you how _not_ to do it your whole life, but they’re wrong, Lydia.  They’re so fucking wrong.  Sex is something you do, not something you are.  The fact that you’re not a virgin literally doesn’t matter.  Assuming you wanted to do it—which if you didn’t, just let me know, and I’ll gladly kill Moose for you—it’s okay.”

She smiled for real then, pushing her hair off her face and wiping her red-rimmed eyes. “Reg, you’d never kill Moose—he’s your best friend.”

“And you’re my girlfriend who I care about more than just about anyone in this damn town.” He shrugged, his lips curving into a charming smile. “I suppose I could settle for castrating him since you’re so attached, though.”

“You’re so dumb, Reggie,” she murmured, resting her head on his chest again. “So fricking dumb.”

 _Dumb in love._ The thought crossed his mind, and his jaw dropped.  The word didn’t even come out of his mouth, but it came into his mind, fully formed and deadly serious.  Reggie Mantle and the L-word _never_ went together.  They never had, and he had assumed they never would.  At that moment, though, with Lydia tight against his chest, he couldn’t help but feel exactly sure that that’s what he was feeling.

* * *

 

Friday was normally my favorite day of the week—the work week was over, I would actually get to sleep in the next day, and Reggie always came up with some crazy plan for the weekend.  This particular Friday, though, I was stuck working on the Sunday School curriculum that I had been neglecting with an alarming frequency since Reggie and I started dating. 

Reggie was in the basement, organizing some long-ignored closets when Coach Clayton walked in.  I recognized him immediately—he was one of the most well-known people at Riverdale High, after all.  What I didn’t know was why he was suddenly in the main office of the church, looking at me like he needed to ask me a question.

“Coach Clayton,” I said, putting on my widest smile. “What can I help you with?”

“Hello Miss Boyd,” he said, deftly covering the fact that there was zero chance he knew my first name. “Is your father here?”

“He is.  Want me to get him for you?”

“That would be excellent.”

I practically flew out of my desk, power-walking quickly across the lobby to my dad’s office.  He called me in right after I knocked.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“Uh, Coach Clayton is here to see you.” I meant for it to be a statement, but my words came out sounding far more like a question. “Want me to send him in?”

“Sure.” He closed his Bible and set it aside. “I have some time now.”

I nodded and darted back to the front office to direct Coach to the office.  As soon as the door was shut behind him, I froze, barely restraining myself from pressing my ear against the door.  Luckily, the door was thin and crappy enough that I could hear most of the conversation without pressing my face against it like a lunatic.

“What can I do for you, Coach Clayton?”

“Pastor Boyd, I’m here to talk about Reggie.”

“I figured as much.  I’m pleased to say, though, that he’s exceeded expectations.  Reggie’s a hard worker, and he does anything we assign him without so much as a single complaint.”

“So, you’d give him an overall positive recommendation?  I’m really considering whether or not to let him back on the team in the fall, and I have to say that your word’s going to make or break the decision.”

My heart sunk at that.  If my dad had the power to make or break Reggie’s football career, maybe to make or break his future, I had no doubts about what he would do.  He hated him, and he had hated him even since before we started dating.  There was no way he’d do Reggie a favor when he could just as easily shut him down.

“Well, then, I have to say that I see no reason not to let him back on to the team.  The kid’s made some mistakes, no doubt about it, but he’s repenting in both word and action, and he’s given me no reason to doubt him.”

There was a long silence, and for a moment, I was sure I had dropped out of reality into some sort of delusion.  My father, the esteemed Reverend Samuel Boyd, had just given Reggie a glowing recommendation.  There was no way it could be real.  For a moment, the words on the other side of the door jumbled together, so I flew back from it when I heard the chairs start to move.  Lunging toward the welcome desk, I scrambled into place behind it in an attempt to look busy.  Luckily, when Coach Clayton walked out of the room, he didn’t seem to find my behavior nearly as unusual as he should.

When my dad walked out, though, he gave me a disapproving look. “What are you doing there, Lydia?” he asked as soon as the coach was out of earshot.

“Just—um—reorganizing the welcome booklets.” I snatched a handful of booklets to hold up, cringing when I realized I had picked up a still-wrapped package that absolutely didn’t need to be organized.

“Of course.  Come take a seat.” He pulled his door open further, gesturing for me to join him.

I exhaled slowly, dropping the booklets and standing up.  My head drooped as I followed him in, but when I sat down, I steeled myself and looked up.   To my surprise, he didn’t look all that mad.

“I know you were listening, Lydia.”

I didn’t bother to lie.

He lifted his eyebrows expectantly. “Anything you’d like to say about that?”

“Nope.”

“Alright then, so you heard what I said about Reggie.”

“Yup.”

“Are you at all curious why?”

I swallowed hard. “Well, yeah, but I didn’t really see the point in asking when all we do is fight these days.”

He nodded slowly, sucking in another breath. “I know the last thing you want right now is a lesson.”

“You’re right about that.  Does that mean I can leave now?”

“No, you’re getting one anyway.” He sighed, and I caught his gaze for a moment.  It made me realize just how grey his hair had gotten. “Lydia, I wasn’t about to lie to Coach Clayton out of spite—because that’s what it would be—spite.  I don’t like Reggie, and I like that you’re dating him even less, but it’s not about how much I like him.” He paused for a beat, letting his words sink in. “Kiddo, I’m a Pastor, I’ve dedicated my life to showing people the love of God, and lately, I’ve been doing a pretty poor job of that.” His green eyes looked shiny, like they were about to water. “That boy’s hurting, Lydia, in more ways than even _you_ know, and—”

“Oh, and you do?” I snapped.

He took a steadying breath and shook his head. “I don’t want to argue right now, Lydia.  All I can say is that you may not feel like it, but you’re still a kid.  There’s still a lot you don’t know, a lot you don’t see.  So, yes, Lydia, I think there’s more going on with Reggie than you know, and I think that it would be wrong of me to force you away from him when it’s clear you’re showing him the love he really needs right now.”

My voice caught in my throat, and I wasn’t sure if I should be sad or mad.  His words made my gut hurt, though, and the office was feeling impossibly small and hot.

He went on, clearly not needing a response from me. “You may not feel God’s love anymore, Lydia, but it’s so clearly radiating from every aspect of your being.  Even though you may feel like you’re wandering through the desert, lost and alone, to that boy, you’re the oasis.”

I swallowed painfully, and my chest tightened. “What’s bringing this on, Dad?  What made you go from screaming at me about my virginity to telling me to spend time with him?”

He shook his head, and I saw his eyes starting to get watery again. “I’m worried, Lydia.  I’m terrified that I’m losing my baby girl, that I’ll drive you away just like I drove away Noah.”

Noah.  Of course, it was Noah.  It wasn’t enough that he might lose me, he was just still hurting from losing Noah.

“Okay, Dad.” I bit my lip, beyond ready to be done with the conversation.

“Your behavior lately scares me, Lydia.  The drinking, the partying, dating Reggie, all of it.  You always used to stay out of it.  You stayed out of the Playbook debacle, Jingle Jangle, and all the other nonsense that’s hit this town over the past few years.  Now, you’re getting sucked up in it all, and it terrifies me.”

“Dad, it’s not like I had much of a choice.  My best friend was murdered—what did you expect me to do?  Just crawl into a hole and never socialize again?  The Black Hood brought me into it the minute he crucified Midge, the minute I was left with no one and had to somehow put back together the pieces of my life.  I’m not your baby girl anymore, and I never will be again.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but then the phone rang, cutting him off.  He looked down at it and sighed. “I need to take this.”

“Good.  I need to finish the Sunday School curriculum.” I got up and pushed in my chair.

“We’ll finish this conversation later.”

“No, we won’t, Dad.  You didn’t lie to Coach Clayton, and you shouldn’t lie to yourself, either.” I slipped out of the room, not giving him any time to respond.  Instead of turning toward the sanctuary like I normally would, I turned to the basement instead, finding Reggie in a closet moving boxes.

I ducked through the door and pulled it shut behind me, making Reggie jump when he saw me.  He yanked out his headphones and looked down at me with a grin. “What are you doing down here?”

Instead of answering, I gripped the front of his t-shirt tightly and pulled him in for a desperate kiss.  Reggie reacted instinctively, wrapping his arms around me and pressing my back into the closet door.  He moved his hand to my cheek, dragging it down my neck lightly to brush the hair away.  My entire body erupted in goosebumps, and my head felt light and spinny.  Then, he pulled back.

“You know, I’m not opposed to random midday makeout sessions, but I have to ask why.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I murmured, resting my head on his chest so I wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.

“Talk to me, Lyds.” He gently lifted my face so that I was looking at him. “I know you well enough to know that when you say something’s nothing, it’s absolutely something.”

I chuckled, pressing a soft kiss into his still-parted lips.  Before answering, I readjusted my grip on him, wrapping my arms around his waist and letting myself relax into him.  Wordlessly, Reggie adjusted accordingly, enveloping me in his arms and resting his hand comfortingly on the back of my neck. “It might be something.”

_“Might be?”_

“It is something.  It’s just—” I cut off, not even sure what I wanted to say. “My dad.”

“What’d he do now?” he asked, gently cupping my cheek to direct my gaze to him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine, I guess.  He just—I don’t know—I guess he just keeps managing to surprise me.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”  

“Mostly good.” I managed to force my lips into a soft smile. “I think you might finally be growing on him.”

“Really?” His eyebrows rose, and he held me a slight distance, checking my face for any sign of a joke. “Me? I’m growing on Pastor Boyd?  Has hell frozen over?”

I rolled my eyes and kissed him softly. “No, it has not.  You do have _some_ redeemable qualities, you know.”

“Just some?” His eyes lit up mischievously, and he moved his hands down my sides to tickle lightly at my waist.

“Just some,” I confirmed, trying futilely to wiggle out of his grasp. “You’re still kind of a jerk, you know.”

“A jerk?” he laughed, gripping my hips more tightly to push me back into the door and press his lips into my neck. “I resent that, Lydia.”

I bit back a laugh, trying not to let it show how ticklish I was. “Reggie, you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously crazy about you,” he replied, brushing my hair off my face to kiss his way down my temple.  As his lips trailed down my jaw to my neck, my eyes drifted shut.  I tipped my head back, not even caring that he was probably being too rough, that he might leave another hickey.  All that mattered was the way his body fit around mine, the way he made me feel like everything was going to be okay—the way he made me feel so impossibly, perfectly, loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I always say it, but thank you so much for reading! To all the people who have made it this far with me, you really do mean the world to me.
> 
> I can't believe this story is over halfway there! I really hope you're enjoying the story!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: I wouldn't call it smut, but some clothes come off. There's also a fight scene with some blood.

“I think that one looks like an elephant,” Reggie said, gesturing up at a particularly fluffy cloud.

“I thought it looked like Vader,” I laughed, glancing at the little dog where he was sitting on the blanket with us chewing on a stick that was way too big for him.

Reggie snorted with laughter. “I guess the ears are kind of the same.” Lazily, he draped his arm over me to scratch Vader’s ears, flopping them around and earning a grumpy huff from the dog.

Laughing, I held his arm in place, pulling myself close to him for a kiss.  Since it was a nice day, we had been laying on a blanket in his yard, watching the clouds, tossing a stick for Vader, and generally relaxing in the sun.  It wasn’t often that we got an actual, honest-to-God, nice summer day in Riverdale, so when we did, everyone took the chance to get outside.

“You know, Lydia, if we sit outside long enough, you might just melt,” he joked, poking me in the side where my t-shirt had ridden up slightly.

I rolled over and gave him an unamused look, trying not to smile. “Please, Reggie, explain to me why I might melt.”

He grinned, bursting to reveal the punchline of his joke. “Because you’re so pale—like a snowman, you know?”

Groaning, I rolled back onto my back. “That may have been a new low in bad jokes.”

“That may be true.” He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at me. “But you still wanted to laugh.”

“Did not.”

He rolled over the rest of the way, climbing on top of me on his hands and knees and trapping me underneath him. “Did too.”

“You’re pretty full of yourself, you know.”

“I know.” He leaned in close and pressed a kiss into my neck. “And you’re pretty pretty.”

“Pretty pretty?” I laughed.

“The prettiest, one might argue.” His lips were still hot against my neck as he slid his hands underneath me, flipping us over so that I was on top of him.

I ran my hands through his hair, kissing my way around his face and making him laugh as I settled in on top of him.  Reggie held my hips tightly, finding my lips with his own.  My shirt had ridden up again, and his fingertips were hot against the exposed skin.

“You really are gorgeous,” he murmured, holding my hair back to kiss the flushed skin of my neck. “Even if you don’t believe it.”

I rolled my eyes and shut him up with another kiss. “Reggie, how about instead of trying to boost my self-esteem, you just kiss me.”

“Can do.” He smirked and returned his lips to mine.  My eyes drifted shut, and everything but the feeling of his lips on mine faded away. 

Clinging to his broad shoulders, I could barely hold myself upright as his lips worked their magic on my neck.  Between that and the feeling of his hand on the small of my back holding me flush against him, I could barely think straight.  His hips bucked slightly, and I gasped, the sharp breath escaping before I could even register what I was feeling.

“Fuck, Lydia,” he murmured, kissing me like his life depended on it. “Shit.”

I bit my lip and forced myself to open my eyes.  Reggie had tipped his head back, resting it on the blanket and looking up at me through hooded eyes.  He was panting heavily, his cheeks flushed red with exertion.

“Reggie, this—”

“We can stop,” he said.  His voice was low, rough, and it was clear he was hoping I’d say no.

A surge of confidence shot through me, and my heart started to beat so hard that I had to stop and catch my breath. “Who said anything about stopping?”

Reggie’s eyes widened, and he looked like he wasn’t sure if he should question me further.  He bit his lip, nodding and keeping his eyes fixed on mine. “Promise you’ll tell me if you want me to stop? Like, even if you’re the tiniest bit unsure?”

“I promise, Reggie.” I leaned in and kissed him softly, capturing his parted lips with my own.  My breath was heavy when I pulled back. “I trust you, Reggie, more than I’ve trusted anyone in a long time.” I smiled and cupped his cheek, running my thumb over his full lips. “However, I am going to ask that we move inside to your room instead of doing whatever it is we’re about to do in the backyard for everyone to see.”

He laughed, pressing a kiss into my fingertips. “Everyone?  We have a fence, and the nearest neighbors are well out of earshot.”

“Don’t care—it’s still outside, and that’s way too public.”

“Fine, fine, fine,” he drawled, pulling us into an upright position. “I’ll save all the kinky exhibitionist stuff for when we’ve been dating at least a month.”

My cheeks went bright red, and I buried my face in his chest. “Reggie, stop,” I whined.

He laughed harder, hugging me tightly and kissing the top of my head. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, Lyds.”

I rolled my eyes and looked up at him, shifting my weight onto my knees to put myself at eye level with him.  Glancing around to double-check that we were still alone, I kissed just below his ear, letting my lips linger after the kiss. “I’ll bet I’m even cuter when I’m in your bed.”

He swallowed hard, making a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a choke.  Before he could sputter a coherent word, he flew to his feet, yanking me with him and starting toward the house. “Holy fucking hell, Lydia Boyd, you’re going to kill me.”

“Reggie,” I laughed, trying to wiggle my wrist out of his grip. “I can’t keep up with you, remember?  Little legs?”

“Well, damn, then I guess I’ll have to help.” Grinning, he jerked to a stop, releasing my hand and sweeping me off my feet.

“Reggie!” I shrieked, clinging to him as he started walking again. “Put me down!”

“Not likely.” He reached the back door and used his elbow to prop it open, letting Vader in and then letting it slam shut behind us. “If I can’t sweep you off your feet with my dazzling charm, I’m going to have to do it physically.”

I rolled my eyes as he nearly jogged up the stairs, carrying me with ease like I wasn’t a fully-grown, normal-sized human.  When we reached his room, he dropped me back onto my feet, pushing me back on the still-closed door. “Are you sure about this, Lydia?”

I trailed my hands up his chest to his shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin material of his t-shirt.  With one hand, I started playing with the soft hair on the back of his neck.  His hair had gotten long this summer, and he hardly ever gelled it all the way back anymore, letting it hang kind of messily instead.  Slowly, he tipped his head back, relishing in the feeling.  His grip on my hips tightened, and he caught his lower lip with his teeth, exhaling slowly.

“I’m absolutely sure, Reggie.” His eyes opened, and I made sure he was looking at me before I continued. “Now, I’m not saying we’re going to have sex or something, but I’m kind of done with the whole pulling back as soon as things get PG-13 thing.”

He nodded, his lips curving into a slight smile. “What changed?”

I shrugged, pushing myself up onto my tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek. “Me, I guess.  I care about you, Reggie, and feeling guilty about what I’m feeling all the time really fucking sucks.”

“Who am I to argue with that?” He reached around me, and everything slowed down as the latch on the door clicked open.  Reggie’s lips were on mine again, distracting me as we shuffled into his room.  Then, he pulled back, and I got my first look at the massive space.

His room was easily three times the size of mine, and on the surface, it was everything I would have expected—a big bed with a black bedspread, a huge wooden desk covered in books and a fancy computer, a bookshelf that looked mostly untouched, and a bed for Vader in the corner.  Then, I looked a little closer, drifting away from Reggie as I started to explore.  The desk was messier than it looked at first, clearly used more than I would have expected, and Vader’s corner really was well-stocked with food, water, toys, and everything the little guy could possibly need.  What was clearly the centerpiece of the room, though, was the trophy wall.

“I know, it’s ridiculous,” Reggie said, walking up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.  He rested his chin on my shoulder with a sigh. “Every damn trophy, ribbon, or medal I’ve won since goddamn Little League.”

“Why don’t you take it down?”

“For the same reason I wasn’t the one who put it up—my parents won’t even let me decorate my own room.”

I continued to look around, and more bits and pieces of Reggie started to appear.  Despite his parents’ control, he was obviously doing his best to decorate within the parameters they laid out.  The walls were covered with vintage car posters, each neatly framed.  There were a few old records, too, classic rock like the Beatles and Rolling Stones.  Next to the bedside, there were two framed photos—one I recognized immediately: Reggie and Moose after a football game.  The other was much older.

“Reg, is that you and Archie?”

“Mhm.” He sat down on the bed, pulling me with him and grabbing the frame. “We used to be pretty close when we were kids.”

“I didn’t know that.”

He shrugged, setting it back down and wrapping his arms around me with a grin. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Boyd.  I’m a man of many secrets.”

I rolled my eyes and curled my legs up under me, cuddling in close to him. “Good thing I have plenty of time to learn them all.”

He hummed in agreement, brushing my hair off my face to kiss me lightly on the temple.  Then, his lips started trailing slowly down my cheek to my jaw.  His fingertips were soft against my neck, fluttering over my pulse point just lightly enough to send a shiver down my spine.  His lips hit my collarbone, and a shudder overcame me.  Slowly, Reggie wrapped his arm around me to lower me back onto the bed.  His other hand was moving up my shirt, leaving a trail of fire and goosebumps in its wake.

“Reggie,” I breathed, lacing my fingers through his hair to pull him closer. “Shit, babe.”

“That’s it, angel, relax,” he murmured.  He moved his hands to the hem of my shirt, pushing it up at a tantalizingly slow pace. “Just relax and tell me what feels good.”

“Take off my shirt.”

He complied, only picking up his pace slightly as he tugged the shirt over my head to reveal my simple light pink bra.  Then, he resumed his kissing, moving down my collarbones to my chest, his teeth dragging over the sensitive skin of my breast.  I clutched the bedspread in one hand, holding his hair with the other. 

“You, too, Reg.”

He smirked and leaned back, pulling off his shirt and leaning back over me in one fluid motion.  My hands flew to his waist, grabbing at him and trying to explore the expanse of his muscled torso.  I had seen him shirtless before, but he had never been this close, so close that I could feel every inch of his skin on mine.  My head was spinning as my lips found their way back to his.  His thumbs slipped into the waistband of my jean shorts, and my heart nearly thudded to a stop.  The last time I had been this close to someone had been with Moose, and for a moment, I was back there—in the basement, where everything smelled like alcohol and heartbreak. 

“Remember, Lydia, tell me if you want to slow down.” Reggie’s voice was low and soft, and it snapped me back into the moment, reminded me that I was with him, not Moose.

“Please don’t,” I breathed, my heart still racing.

“Are you sure?”

Slowly, I nodded, spreading my legs as he rested between them.  He dipped his head down to mine for a kiss, and I parted my lips, drawing him deeper.  “I need this, Reggie.  I need _you._ ”   

“Fuck, Lyds.” He popped open the button on my jean shorts, resting his hands on my thighs to press a soft kiss into my stomach, just above the waistband of my panties.  “Relax, okay?”

“Mhm.” My mind went fuzzy as I leaned back on the pile of pillows.  He slid my shorts down, kissing his way down my thighs as he did.  Lightly, he ran his hands down my legs, his breath hot on my stomach. 

“I never took you as the matching bra and panties type,” he murmured, pressing open-mouthed kisses into my hips.

“Are they?” I asked, lifting my head from the pillow. “Because it totally wasn’t intentional.”

He laughed and crawled up the bed to kiss me.  His hand was still on my hip, his thumb fingering the thin material of my panties, like he was dying to pull them down—or maybe that’s just what I wanted.

“They are, and it’s cute—you’re cute.”

“You’re pretty cute too, Reg.” I kissed him again, letting the moment of his lips on mine linger as my eyes drifted shut. “And I’m starting to feel really damn naked right now, so I’m going to need you to take off your shorts, too.”

He grinned and slid off me, sliding his shorts off and leaving him in nothing but boxers.  Then, he climbed back on top of me, kissing me hungrily.  I moaned into this kiss, the heat pulsing through my body filling me with an unfamiliar confidence.  Gripping his shoulders, I flipped us over, forcing him back on the pillows so I could sit on his lap.  There were only two thin layers of material between us now, and his hardness was pressing into my core.

Reggie clung to my waist, biting back a moan as I rolled my hips into his.  “Fuck, you look so beautiful right now, Lyds.”

“Right now?” I murmured, leaning in to kiss his neck.  I smirked when he moaned, loving that I could have the same effect on him that he had on me. “Don’t I look beautiful all the time?”

“Mhm, but you look especially beautiful when you’re almost naked on top of me.” He flicked his hair off his face to smirk at me.

I rested my forehead on his, unable to keep myself from smiling. “Reggie, I think you’re my favorite person in the world.”

“Lydia, I—shit, I love you, Lydia.”

I froze, his words not quite registering.  “What?”

His eyes were wide, like he’d shocked himself just as much as he’d shocked me.  Then, his face broke into a wide smile. “I love you, Lydia.  It’s probably entirely insane, and it’s way, way too soon, but I love you, and I really don’t want to keep it to myself anymore.”

“Reggie, we’ve been together, like, two weeks.”

“Yeah, and they’ve been the greatest two weeks of my goddamn life, Lyds.” His smile was unshakable, and I couldn’t help but smile in return. “Since when is there a time frame on love?  I loved Vader the moment I saw him, so compared to that, I really took my time on you.”

I burst into laughter, relaxing back into him. “Oh, so I’m on par with Vader?”

“Maybe not yet, but I’m sure you’ll get there.”

Rolling my eyes, I kissed him quickly. “Well, Reggie, I may not be Vader-level yet, but—” I paused, the words catching in my throat. “I love you, too, even if it is way too fast and completely stupid, I love you.”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard in my entire goddamn life.” He pulled me in close to him, tugging the blankets over us as he kissed down my neck. “I love you so much, Lydia Boyd, so fucking much.”

* * *

In a shocking turn of events, Reggie found himself at a party wondering how on Earth the cops hadn’t been called yet.  Sure, it was the Fourth of July and they probably had better things to do, but there was no way that many drunk, half-dressed teens swarming the Clayton’s pool deck were going to go unnoticed for long.  Sighing, Reggie took another sip of his beer, leaning against the bar and looking out over the pool—had it been a month earlier, he would be in there, using his body to his advantage to flirt with whatever girl was willing.

“Whatcha looking at?” Moose asked, walking up next to him.

Reggie shrugged. “Nothing really—just bored, I guess.”

“Bored?” he asked, giving him a confused look. “You do realize this is the biggest damn party of the summer, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” He took another sip of beer. “I just—”

“Wish Lydia was here?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Why isn’t she?”

Reggie sighed. “Well—”

“My two favorite dudes!” Chuck boomed, squeezing in between the two taller boys to wrap his arms around them.  He was still damp from being in the pool, and he reeked of beer and chlorine. “Fuck, I haven’t seen you guys all night—where’ve you been?”

Moose rolled his eyes and shook him off. “Well, I’ve been fishing drunk freshmen out of the pool, and Reggie’s been nursing the same beer for close to an hour.”

“Reg, man!” Chuck said, grabbing his shoulders and forcing his friend to look at him. “That can’t be serious, right?”

Rolling his eyes, Reggie downed the remainder of his beer in one gulp. “Happy?”

“Not yet, man.  Where the fuck is that girlfriend of yours?”

“Jesus,” Reggie groaned. “Is that all you two care about?  Where my girlfriend is?”

“Just saying, man,” Chuck went on, his lips curving into a lascivious grin. “I get keeping it a secret and all, ‘cause who knows why the _fuck_ you’d date the goody-two-shoes church virgin, but now that you’re doing it, why not bring her?  I’m still your friend, man, and I want to meet the girl.”

“You have met her,” Reggie reminded him, “several times, actually.” He didn’t mention that he’d been a complete ass on all of those occasions.

“Okay, but I want to meet her as your girlfriend,” he insisted. “Or is she too good to come to parties with the rest of us?”

Reggie’s fist clenched around his solo cup, and the plastic crumpled with a crunch. “That’s not it at all, Chuck.”

“Then what the fuck is it?  Because I’ve sure never seen her at a party.” Chuck set his cup down, angling himself at Reggie.  His eyes were starting to narrow, his cheerful grin fading.

Reggie squared up with him, both his hands clenched into tight fists. “Maybe she just doesn’t like parties.  Why the fuck is that such a big deal?”

“Hey, guys,” Moose said, recognizing immediately where this was going.  Quickly, he set down his cup and tried to get between the two of them. “Chill.”

“It’s not,” Chuck snapped, the alcohol hitting him with destructive force. “Which is why she should fucking be here.  I mean, c’mon, what kind of shitty fucking girlfriend can’t even come to a fucking party?”

Reggie’s vision went red, and the sounds of the party faded away as all his energy focused into his fist.  Shoving Moose aside, he let loose on Chuck, his fist slamming into his nose with a loud crunch.  Chuck’s head flew back, and he staggered a few steps before getting his feet back under him.  Then, with a roar, he lunged toward Reggie, punching him square in the cheek.  Chaos erupted.  Reggie slammed into Chuck, and they hit the ground hard.  Both of them were struggling to get on top, fists flying.

“Hey, hey!” Moose dove toward them, doing his best to yank the two apart. “Archie, man, get the fuck over here.”

Archie ran over, grabbing at Chuck as Moose got his arms around Reggie.  After a lot of cursing, struggling, and dodging, they somehow managed to get the two of them apart.

“What the fuck, man?” Moose yelled, forcing Reggie to look at him. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t, okay?” Reggie snapped, shaking off his friend’s grip. “I just— _fuck._ I need to get the fuck out of here.”

“What are you talking about, Reg?  You can’t drive like this.”

“Moose, I only had one fucking beer, so I’m leaving.” Reggie wiped his arm across his face, and it came back covered in blood. “Fuck, yeah, I need to go.”

“Fine, man, whatever.” Moose lifted his hands. “Call me tomorrow so I know you’re not dead, alright?”

“Fine.” With a final glance at Chuck who was mopping himself off with a beach towel, Reggie started walking out of the backyard.  His face stung as he got back into his car, so he grabbed an old gym shirt out of the back to hold to his split cheek.  Starting the car, he pulled out his phone—it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet.  He sent a quick text message.

_Me: can you meet me at the church?_

_Lydia: Of course.  What’s going on?_

_Me: i’ll explain there_

* * *

The church was mostly dark when Reggie pulled in.  Knowing that Pastor Boyd would not be okay with him being there that late, Reggie pulled around to the small lot around the back of the church—the one that couldn’t be seen from the house.  Still holding the shirt to his face, Reggie walked around to the front door, relieved to find it unlocked.

As soon as Lydia saw him, her eyes widened, and she nearly dropped her phone. “Reggie, what the hell happened?” She rushed toward him. “Reg, babe, what—”

He shook his head, holding up a hand. “I got in a fight—it’s not a huge deal, but—”

“Later,” she interrupted him, grabbing his hand. “For now, we need to get you cleaned up.  Come with me.”  She led him into a room he’d never been in and flipped on the lights to reveal an industrial-looking kitchen.  Pulling up a stool, she forced him to sit down. “Sit,” she ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, smiling softly.  She bustled around the kitchen, grabbing a first aid kit, some towels, and a bowl of water.  Blinking hard, he tried to shake off his pounding headache to look at her—she was wearing what looked like pajama shorts and a t-shirt. “Were you in bed, Lydia?”

She rolled her eyes and set down all the supplies on the table in front of him. “No, I was not—I just didn’t see the point in getting dressed to watch fireworks alone.”

“Alone?” He winced as she started wiping the blood off his face. “Where’s your family?”

“Noah’s home, so they all went to Pickens Park for the fireworks.”

“And you didn’t want to go with?”

“And be interrogated about you?” She grinned. “Nah, I’ll pass on that for now.”

He started to laugh but winced when he realized how much that hurt. “So, how am I looking, doc?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, giving him a concerned look as she set down the washcloth to pick up alcohol wipes. “Depends on how the other guy looks.”

“Chuck?  I _may_ have broken his nose.”

Her hand dropped, and her eyebrows furrowed anxiously.  “Chuck?  What were you fighting about?”  Before he had a chance to answer, though, it dawned on her. “It was me, wasn’t it?”

“Lyds, I—”

“Don’t lie to me, Reggie.”

He sighed, looking down at his lap.  Cautiously, he looked back up at her. “Yeah, it was you.”

“I thought so.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she picked the alcohol wipe to finish cleaning up his face.

The alcohol stung when it hit his busted cheek. “Lyds, I—”

“The damage wasn’t as bad as it looks,” she said, cutting him off. “You’re bruised up pretty bad, but the cut on your cheek is tiny—a band-aid should do it.”

“Lydia, can we please talk about this?”

She took a deep breath, grabbing a band-aid and sticking it on his cheek.  Her hands were shaking slightly. “What’s there to talk about?  Chuck doesn’t think we should be dating—is there more to it than that?”

“I don’t—fuck, I don’t know, Lydia.  All I know is that I love you, and I don’t give a damn what Chuck thinks.”

Sighing, she ran her hand through her hair, standing up to look at him. “And I love you, Reggie, but this is exactly what I was afraid of.”

He got up, taking her hands in his.  Her green eyes were watery, so he pulled her into a hug. “What do you mean, Lyds?”

“How’s this going to work in real life?”

“Real life?  As opposed to the parallel universe we’ve been living in the past month?”

She pulled back slightly to give him a hard look. “School, football, parties, and all the normal stuff that you’re going to go back to once your community service is over.  How am I going to fit into that, Reggie?”

He pulled her back into him, kissing the top of her head. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know yet.” His voice was low, almost muffled by her hair. “How can I?  I’ve never really done the whole serious relationship thing before, Lydia, much less with someone I love.  So, no, I don’t know how you’re going to fit in yet.  Like I said, though, I love the hell out of you, and I’m going to make it work.  I want you in my life—no, I fucking _need_ you in my life, so I’m going to make it work.  Got it?”

When she looked back up at him, her smile had returned.  Reggie’s heart thudded in his chest—he needed her to say it was okay, needed her to say they could make it work.  He wasn’t ready to let go of what they had, and he didn’t think he ever would be.

“Yeah, Reggie, I got it.” Smiling, she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

He let his eyes drift shut as they melted into each other.  She deserved so much better than this, and he had to do his best to live up to it. “I love you, Lyds.”

“I love you too, Reggie.” She bit her lip nervously. “Next party, though, I’m going with, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give an extra special thank you to everyone who's ever commented on this fic. Your comments really do mean the world to me, and they often give me the motivation to keep writing.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains a scene of physical abuse by a father. If that is triggering, you should skip past the scene that begins with Reggie's father on the front porch to when Lydia's POV starts about halfway through the chapter. You could also feel free to shoot me a message or comment, and I'll let you know what you missed. (I'm happy to post a redacted version to tumblr if people would like it). 
> 
> There is also a mild fight scene between Moose and Reggie in the first scene of the chapter.

“Mantle, get your head in the game!” Coach Clayton shouted, his voice cutting through the din on the field. “I don’t care how out of practice you are—you either make these throws, or you’re riding the bench.”

Reggie bit back a groan and forced himself to focus.  He _was_ out of practice, and it didn’t help that he was only allowed to go back to practice part-time until his community service was done.  He glanced around, inspecting the faces of his teammates to see how they reacted to Coach’s words.  They knew it, too—their quarterback was basically useless.  He just to get through today, though.  If he could make it through his first day back, then he could convince Moose to play receiver for him a few hours a night—he could force himself back into shape by any means necessary. 

Cursing, Reggie called the play, and everything around him went quiet as all the distractions faded away.  There was only him, the ball, and the team.  No Lydia, no community service, no gun.  Nothing else mattered.  They ran the play, again and again, throwing the same damn passes until they connected every single time.  By the time Coach finally called for a break, Reggie felt the fatigue setting in, and it made him furious. 

“Not bad, man,” Archie said, slapping him on the back as they jogged back to the bench to grab water. “Seeing as you couldn’t play baseball and all.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Reggie muttered, fighting back the slew of curse words he really wanted to say.

“How does it feel to be back?”

“Really fucking good,” Reggie answered.  Even if he was pissed off, it was the truth. “Finally feels like shit’s going back to normal.”

Archie cocked an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look. “Normal, huh?  Is that what they call it when close to a dozen people in a small town are killed in less than a year?”

He shrugged, trying not to let his face show how uncomfortable Archie’s comment made him. “As normal as we can hope for, I guess.”

Moose and Chuck were standing behind the bench, water bottles in hand as they talked to Nancy and a few other River Vixens Reggie didn’t recognize.  Desperate to escape his current conversation, Reggie nodded to Archie, grabbed his water bottle, and walked over to join them.

“And who’s this?” the taller, blonde Vixen asked, giving Reggie a look that filled him with a sudden surge of confidence.

“Reggie Mantle,” he replied, putting on his most charming smile and shaking her hand.

Her grin widened slightly. “Lacie Lockwood.  I just moved here from Greendale this summer.”

 _So, she has no idea who I am_ , he thought. “Oh really?  And how are you liking Riverdale so far?”

She placed a soft hand on his bicep, her thumb brushing lightly over his skin. “It’s been absolutely great.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Across the field, Veronica started shouting that the River Vixens’ break was over, and Lacie gave Reggie an apologetic look, almost sticking out her full lower lip in a pout. “Guess that means I have to go now.  See you around?”

“See you around,” he replied, smiling amusedly.

When they were gone, Moose gave Reggie a steely look, and Chuck knowingly took it as a hint to take a big step away from them, all the way back to the water cooler with Archie.

“What was that?” Moose demanded.

“What was what?” he asked, running his hand through his hair to push it off his face.

“ _That_ ,” Moose replied, gesturing at the retreating blonde. “You and Lydia didn’t break up or something, did you?”

“What the fuck?” Reggie snapped, the accusation hitting like a slap in the face. “I didn’t do anything—I just talked to her.”

“Just talked, huh?” Moose crossed his arms over his chest, using his height to his advantage to look down at Reggie. “I don’t think Lyds would see it that way.”

“Lyds?” Reggie took a step towards him, his fists clenching. “You don’t think _Lyds_ would see it that way?  And what makes you the expert on all things Lydia?”

“I just know her, man,” Moose replied, lifting his hands in surrender, his stare still burning through him. “No need to make a thing out of it.  I know her, and I know she’d probably be really hurt if she saw you flirting with other girls like that.”

Reggie’s lips were pressed into a tight line. “You know, Moose, I don’t see why that’s any of your goddamn business.  She’s my girlfriend, not yours.” He didn’t know why the words were spilling out like that, so full of anger, but he couldn’t stop them.  Moose was right—Lydia _would_ have been hurt if she’d seen him not immediately shutting Lacie down.  The truth didn’t matter, though.  At that moment, with Moose trying to tell him how to treat Lydia, he wanted to _kill_ him.

“Yeah, she is your girlfriend, but she’s my friend, too.  That’s still allowed right, Reggie?” Moose’s voice had gotten low, angry. “She is still allowed to be friends with people, isn’t she?”

“Of course, she fucking is.”

The guys had started to realize something was going on now, and Chuck and Archie wandered back over.  Both were silently watching, one eye on their friends and the other on the coaches, waiting in case things turned ugly.  Reggie barely noticed, though.  He was on a roll now, all the feelings from the past few weeks coming out in a furious torrent of words.

“You see, Moose, the thing is, I don’t mind her being friends with other guys—I just don’t fucking like her being friends with you.”

Moose’s face went pale, and his eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you talking about, Reggie?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” They were just inches away from each other now, and Reggie’s voice came out in a low whisper. “You fucking slept with her when she was drunk and miserable and vulnerable.  Who the fuck does that?”

Moose hissed out his words through clenched teeth. “It wasn’t like that.  And unless she’s suddenly a fucking liar, you know that.”

“I guess I really don’t _know_ anything,” Reggie replied. “Except, I do know that you fucked my girlfriend, and now you’re trying to tell me how to be in a relationship with her.”

Moose grabbed the front of his shirt, nearly lifting Reggie off his feet, and his voice came out in a harsh whisper. “Shut your fucking mouth, Mantle.  Everyone can fucking hear you, and Lydia would be destroyed if anyone found out what happened between us.”

Reggie bit his lip hard.  Moose was right again.  If Chuck found out about Moose and Lydia, he’d never shut up about it, and that would be just about the worst possible thing Reggie could imagine for her.

His voice came out just as low as Moose’s. “You’re just fucking jealous that I won.  I got the girl, and you got _nothing_.”

“ _Won?_ ” Moose spat. “She’s a person, not a trophy, you colossal piece of shit.”

Reggie’s fist moved faster than his brain as it slammed into Moose’s nose.  Moose reacted just as quickly, lunging toward Reggie and knocking him to the ground with a roar.  Chuck and Archie sprang into action, yanking the two apart the best they could.  Moose and Reggie were stronger though, fueled by an inhuman rage, and they couldn’t keep them from trying to beat the shit out of each other.  Within seconds, everyone else was on them, pulling the two shouting boys apart.  It took close to three guys to pull Moose off of Reggie, and by the time they got them apart, Coach Clayton had run over, red-faced and shouting.

“What the hell is going on here?  Mantle, Mason, my office, now!”

* * *

 

Reggie’s dad was standing on the front porch waiting for him when he got home.  His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was still in his suit from work.  The moment Reggie saw him, he clenched his teeth—Coach Clayton must have called him about the fight, and now his ass was toast.

He pulled his car into the garage, grabbed his backpack, and started toward the front door.  It was the angriest he’d seen his dad since the arrest, and he couldn’t help but feel a nervous ache in his stomach.

“Inside.  Now.”  Martin’s voice was deathly calm, a sure sign that he was absolutely furious.

“Yeah, Dad,” Reggie sighed, following him into the house.  As soon as they were inside, Martin turned on Reggie, backhanding him across the face.  Reggie’s head snapped to the side, his ears ringing and his vision going blurry.  Pain radiated out from his cheekbone, and he had to blink a few times to steady his vision. 

“A fight?  Really, Reggie?  Your first day back and you get in a fight?  It’s bad enough that you’re not the captain, and now you’re suspended?”

“Only until I finish my hours, Dad,” Reggie said weakly, holding his hand to his already sore cheek.  His black eye from Chuck at the Fourth of July party had finally healed, and now, between Moose and his dad, he’d have a whole new set of bruises to explain to Lydia.

“Until you finish your hours?” he shouted. “Your hours from trying to kill someone?  Don’t even remind me of that, Reggie.”  He shook out his hand, readying for another blow.  “You’re a disgrace.”

Reggie couldn’t contain himself.  He swallowed hard, ignoring the pounding in his head to look up at his dad. “Oh, _I’m_ the disgrace?  What could you really expect, Dad?  Beat the shit out of your kid, tell him how much of a disappointment he is, ignore him the other 90% of the time, and he’s bound to turn out great.”

Martin’s voice went low again, his brown eyes narrowing and his eyebrows pressing together. “What did you just say to me?”

Reggie took a deep breath, pulling himself up to his full height to face him. “You heard me, Dad.  If I’m a disappointment, it’s all because of how you raised me.” 

He was ready for the next blow, ducking out of his father’s reach before his fist made contact.  Moving on instinct, he grabbed the older man’s hand, whipped it around his back and shoved him forward.

“Let go of me,” Martin sputtered, trying to wriggle free.

But Reggie didn’t loosen his grip. “No, Dad, I’m not going to—I’m done letting you beat me up.  If you want to try being a real parent, you’re going to have to come up with a new strategy.”

“Reginald, let go of me this instant,” he spat, his face going red.

Reggie shoved him onto the ground, taking a step back so he couldn’t go after his legs. “Next time you think you want to hit me, Dad, think again.  I’m not some scared little kid anymore, and I’m done being a fucking punching bag.”  Not waiting for an answer, he picked up his backpack and started jogging back up to his room.

Martin scrambled onto his feet as Reggie took off.  Reggie ignored his angry shouts, dropping his backpack and scooping up a very confused-looking Vader.  He stormed back down the stairs, grabbing a leash on the way.  There was no way he was leaving the little dog alone with him after that.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Reggie shoved past him. “Out.”

“Oh no, you’re not.” Martin squeezed around him to slam the door shut. “You’re not leaving until I’m done with you.”

“You are done with me, Dad.” Reggie ripped his hand off the door and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him. 

As soon as he was out the door, his breath caught in his throat, and he choked back a sob.  His head was still ringing, and his vision was fuzzy.  Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he raced to the car, climbing in and setting Vader on the seat next to him.  He slammed the car into reverse, flying out of the driveway.  Somehow, he managed to get the car a few blocks away before he started sobbing for real.

Reggie didn’t realize how hard he was shaking until he pulled over, yanking out his phone to hit dial.  Vader crept onto his lap as the phone rang, nudging his hand gently with his nose.  Instinctively, Reggie scratched his ears, the feel of his soft fur against his fingertips just familiar enough to calm him down enough to talk.

Lydia picked up on the second ring, immediately hearing his sobs through the phone. “Hey, Reg, what’s—oh my God, are you okay?”

“I need some help, Lyds,” he choked out. “I—um—fuck, I—”

“Where are you, Reggie?”

He heard her car start on the other end of the line, and he choked out the name of the cross-street.

“I’ll be there in five minutes, Reggie?” Her voice was frantic. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, but please hurry.”

* * *

 

By the time I got there, it was starting to rain.  The wind had picked up, too, and I regretted not grabbing a coat on my way out the door.  I raced over to Reggie’s car, yanking open the passenger seat and climbing in.  When I saw him, my jaw dropped, and I nearly climbed over the gearshift to get to him.  I scooted Vader out of the way, cupping his face and rubbing my thumb over his bruised cheek.

“Shit, Reggie, what happened?”

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, barely able to hold back his sobs. “My dad.”

“Your dad?” My heart dropped into my stomach, and I felt a sudden wave of nausea overcome me. “Wha—what do you mean?”

“He hits me, Lydia, and he has for as long as I can remember.”

“Reggie, I—”

“I didn’t want you to know,” he cut me off. “I don’t want anyone to know, and I’ve gotten really damn good at hiding it.”

I let my hand drift down his cheek, feeling the roughness of his battered skin.  Everything in me wanted to curl into a ball and cry, but I couldn’t, not while he needed me. 

My dad’s words rung in my head, bouncing around my skull in a dizzying spiral: _“That boy’s hurting, Lydia, in more ways than even you know.”_ He had been right—my dad had been right.  Reggie had been going through something so much worse than I could possibly imagine, and I had been utterly blind to it.  In an instant, everything made sense—the way he always stood between me and his dad, the way he never gave specifics on why they didn’t get along, the vague way he talked about his parents.  Guilt wracked through me, and I had to swallow back a sob.

“Reggie, please, I’m so sorry.  I can’t believe I didn’t realize.”

“Seriously, Lydia, don’t.” His voice was firm. “Do not apologize because of something he did, something that I spend a fuckton of time and energy trying to hide.”

Slowly, I nodded. “What can I do?  What do you need me to do?”

He sighed, letting his head rest back on the seat. “Just be here.  I’ve, um, never told anyone until now.”

I bit back tears—Reggie had never looked so small, so broken.  His face, which was normally so perfect, was bruised and torn.  His hair was a wreck, and his voice was weak.  He had grabbed my hand, holding it so tightly that my fingers were starting to feel tingly. “Reg, let’s move into the backseat, okay?  I seriously need to hug you or something right now, but the emergency brake is getting a little invasive.”

His lips curved into a barely perceptible smirk. “Yeah, we can do that.”

I climbed into the backseat first, picking Vader up to bring him with.  Reggie followed, plopping into the seat and curling into me, Vader on his lap.  It was a reversal of our normal position—me snuggling into him—but, I didn’t mind.  His head felt heavy against my shoulder, and he was still trying not to cry.

“Talk to me, Reg,” I said softly, running my hand through his hair.

He sighed, his whole body relaxing into mine. “I stood up to him, Lyds.  For the first time in my goddamn life, I fought back.”

I bit my lip, fighting to keep my voice level. “I’m proud of you, Reg.  I—fuck, I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been.”

“I was just so fucking sick of him blaming me for everything, especially after fighting with Moose, I—” He cut off. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“What happened with Moose?” a whole new feeling of nausea came over me, and I already had a pretty good idea of what the answer would be.

“It’s nothing, Lyds.  It just—”

“You guys were fighting about me.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he nodded. “Yeah, we were.”

I held him tighter, my fingertips digging into his bicep as I forced myself to stay calm.

“He found out that I told you.”

“Mhm.” His eyes shot open, and he quickly sat upright. “But that’s not what he was upset about,” he said hurriedly. “He doesn’t care about that.  It was just something dumb I did, and he called me out on it, and then I got all angry and defensive and shit.”  He sighed, sinking back into his slumped position. “I have no idea what’s getting into me, Lydia.  That fight with Chuck at the Fourth, then Moose, and now my dad?  I don’t know why I’m so angry all of a sudden, why everything’s like this.  Maybe they’re not wrong about me after all—maybe I do deserve to rot in jail for what I did.”

“Reggie, stop.” I grabbed his hand, unraveling his tight fist. “Please, relax, Reg.  You’re getting yourself really worked up, and it’s kind of scaring me.”

“Fuck, yeah, I—” he sighed, his hand relaxing into mine. “Shit, I’m sorry, Lyds.”

“Don’t be sorry, Reggie.  Please, do not be sorry right now.  You have _nothing_ to apologize for.  Your dad _beats_ you, Reggie, and I can’t even begin to imagine what that’s like.  What I do know, though, is that even though you have a temper, even though you tend to think with your fists more often than I’d prefer, you’re a good person.  You have a huge heart, and you’re an amazing boyfriend.  You’ve been there for me through all this Midge shit—you listened to me when everyone else with fine with writing me off as the weird, loner pastor’s daughter.”

Sighing, I held his chin, forcing him to look at me. “I know it may feel like you’re spiraling out of control, Reggie, but I think you’re just fighting to get it back.  People have been telling you your whole life how to live, how to be the perfect son, quarterback, or whatever for too long, and you’re finally standing up to it, so goddamnit, don’t you dare apologize to me for losing it every now and then.”

“Wow,” he breathed, running his hand through his hair. “That was—”

“Angrier than I normally am?”

“That.” He smiled softly, cupping my cheek to pull me in close for a kiss.  After a moment, he pulled back. “I love you, Lydia.”

“I love you too, Reggie.” I kissed him again, my eyes drifting shut. “Please talk to Moose, though.  I don’t give a shit about Chuck, and I’ll leave your dad to you, but Moose is your best friend, and I can’t stand that I’m the one getting between you.”

“I will.  I promise,” he replied, resting his forehead against mine. “I feel like I’m such a better person with you, Lydia.  Even if today was a shitty example.”

“You’re making yourself a better person, Reggie, not me.  Sure, I might be able to nudge you a bit here or there, but you’re way too damn stubborn for me to actually have an effect.” I smiled softly, brushing his hair off his face to meet his gaze. “We’re going to get through this together, Reggie, okay?”

He nodded, taking my hand in his. “Okay.”

* * *

 

After what felt like years of sorting through boxes of ancient Christmas decorations, Reggie finally wandered back upstairs to see what was next on the list.  Absentmindedly, he was tossing a little sheep-shaped stress ball in the air, catching it with a hard squeeze.  Ever since the fight with Moose, he had been on-edge and fidgety, so Lydia gave it to him, claiming that his anxiety was rubbing off on her.  She had also said that it was just some freebie she got with the latest batch of Sunday School stuff, but the well-worn exterior told him otherwise.

He strolled into the office, jerking to a halt when he saw who Lydia was shaking hands with. “Mr. Burke, what are you doing here?”

The man was wearing a pristine grey suit, his shiny leather briefcase in hand.  He gave Reggie an appraising look, and Reggie shoved the sheep in his pocket. “Checking up on you, of course.” He looked down at Lydia with a well-practiced smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Boyd.”

“You too,” she replied, giving him the look that Reggie recognized as her _would rather be anywhere else but am required to be friendly_ smile.

Mr. Burke looked at his watch and then back at Reggie, his grin frozen in place. “So, Mr. Mantle, ready for our meeting?”

“Meeting?” Reggie stammered, trying to cover the fact that he has absolutely zero idea what his family’s lawyer was doing in the church.

“Our check-in?  With Pastor Boyd?” Burke gave him a stern look. “We need to make sure all your hours are being squared away correctly so that you meet the terms of your sentence.”

As soon as he said it, Reggie remembered his mom mentioning something about it.  “Oh, yeah.”

“So, care to lead me to the Pastor’s office?”

Lydia shot him an encouraging smile, and Reggie attempted to smile back before turning to lead Burke back into the lobby.

“It was good to finally meet Lydia,” he said, his voice almost scary-level. “After all I’ve been hearing, I—”

“What do you mean?” Reggie cut him off. “Who have you been talking to about this?”

“Your parents,” he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You do know that a part of my job is knowing everything I can about you so that we don’t get surprised by anything down the line, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Reggie wasn’t about to admit that the thought of his lawyer poking that deep into his business, especially Lydia, made him want to hit someone.

They reached the office, and Pastor Boyd was already waiting for them. “Mr. Burke, so good to see you again.”

“And you as well, Pastor.”

Looking at the two men, both dressed in work clothes, Reggie felt like he looked like a little kid in his gym shorts and a t-shirt.  As he sat down, he shoved his hand back in his pocket to fidget with the sheep.

“Pastor Boyd, I think we should just get right to it,” Mr. Burke said, pulling out a folder full of papers. “I know your daughter is dating my client, and I have to say, it doesn’t look good that she’s the primary overseer of his hours.”

Reggie’s heart dropped.  Could he really get all his hours thrown out over something so stupid?

“She’s not, though,” Pastor Boyd said, frowning slightly. “I had the same concern as you when the kids started dating, so we adjusted the process a little.  Lydia still gives him the to-do list and assists with day to day functions, but I’m the one who checks his work every night, assuring that the items checked off the list are actually completed.”

Reggie didn’t know if it was true or not, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to question it.

“Okay,” Burke mused, clicking his pen and making a small note on his legal pad. “And how can I be sure that you haven’t gained the same bias as your daughter?”

“Well, sir, I don’t much like Reggie, if we’re being honest,” he chuckled dryly. “And the odds of me padding his hours in some way is about as likely as me giving him permission to spend the night in my home.”

Burke laughed with him on that one, and Reggie forced out a rough laugh.

“And would you be willing to testify in court that you observed and recorded his service with utmost accuracy if it came to that point?”

“I most certainly would.”

“Excellent.  I believe that’s all I need here, then.” He stood up to shake both of their hands. “Reggie, I’ll be seeing you at the courthouse in a few weeks.”

“Yes, sir,” Reggie replied, forcing himself to smile. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Burke smiled amusedly before departing. “Of course.”

Reggie was just about to follow him out of the office when Pastor Boyd cleared his throat. “Reggie, a moment?”

Fear struck his heart, and he sat back down. “Of course, sir.  What do you need?”

Pastor Boyd walked around the desk, leaning up against it instead of sitting down. “I know you and Lydia are getting more serious, and I just wanted to make a few things clear.” He held his gaze, and Reggie found himself distracted by how much his eyes looked like Lydia’s.  It was a little freaky how those same green eyes could look so warm and inviting on her face, but so controlled and fierce on his.

“What’s that?”

“Well, for starters, I don’t dislike you nearly as much as I put on, but I sure as hell wasn’t about to tell it to that suit.”

Reggie bit back a laugh, and Pastor Boyd shook his head amusedly.

“Now, don’t go taking that to mean I like you—I just don’t _dislike_ you as much as I used to.  You make my little girl happy, and while I’m sure there are a million other boys I’d rather she be dating, that’s enough for now.” He gave him a searching look, as if he could see right through him. “Just be good to her, son.  She’s gone through enough this year, losing Midge and all, and I don’t know if she can handle another heartbreak.”

“I will, sir,” Reggie said, his voice stronger now. “I would never hurt her.”

He exhaled slowly, a fresh look of hurt flashing over his features before fading into a more fatherly expression. “Yeah, Reggie, we all like to think that about ourselves, don’t we?”

Reggie had no idea how to answer that, so he waited in silence.

“I guess you better get back to work now,” Pastor Boyd said as he looked down at his watch. “You’ve only got another half hour left today, and I’d like to see that supply room swept and mopped yet.  Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” With a nod, Reggie slipped out of the office and back to the basement.  His mind was racing when he saw that Lydia was already waiting for him, her green eyes wide with concern.

“So, how’d it go?”

“Not bad at all,” Reggie replied, grabbing her waist to pull her in close.  The soft, familiar feel of her body against his calmed him down almost immediately. “I think you’re right.”

“About?” she asked, her lips curving into a smirk.

“I’m growing on him.”

She rolled her eyes. “Good.” Lightly, she pressed her lips into his, and his heart thudded in his chest.  He held her tighter, trying to deepen the kiss, but she pulled back. “Want some help with that last room?”

“I suppose,” he half-whined. “First, I wanted to ask you something, though.”

“What’s that?”

“What are the chances you could convince your parents you’re sleeping over at Nancy’s tomorrow night?”

Her eyes widened, and she dropped her arms from his shoulders to take a step back. “What are you implying, Reg?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Just, my parents are going to be out of town, and I thought we could both use a night off.  No pressure of any kind—hell, you could even take a guest bedroom.  The hot tub and the bar would be all ours, though, and we could get some really nice food, watch a movie, whatever.” He grinned, his brown eyes lighting up. “What do you think?  Would you want to?”

She bit her lip, deep in thought for a moment.  Then, she nodded, her smile returning. “Yeah, I would.  I trust you, Reggie, and it really does sound fun.”

“Good.” He took her back into his arms, kissing her forehead.  As her arms slid around his waist, he held her tighter, wishing he never had to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Your support and comments mean the world to me!!
> 
> (As a little preview, next week's chapter makes that E rating necessary.)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: explicit sexual content

“I promise, Mom,” I repeated, biting back a groan. “Yup, just me and Nancy.”

Next to me, Reggie smirked, tracing small circles on the back of my hand with his fingertips.  He licked his lips, leaning in to pepper my neck with soft kisses.

I slapped him away, rolling my eyes as my mom went on. “Yes, Mom,” I said more firmly. “Yup.  I know.  I’ll see you in the morning, okay?  Love you, too.  Bye.”

Reggie’s grin widened. “So, did she buy it?”

I paused for a moment, biting back a smile.  Then, I grinned. “Yeah, she bought it!”

“Thank God.” Grabbing my hips, he pulled me onto his lap, kissing me hard.  As his hands slid under my shirt, he started kissing his way down my neck.

“Reggie,” I laughed, pressing my hands into his chest to hold him back. “What happened to a whole night of fun and relaxation?”

“I think this is fun,” he murmured, kissing me again. “Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, Reg, but dinner and expensive champagne in a hot tub sound fun, too.” I ran my hand through his hair, tipping his head up to force him to look at me. “So, dinner?”

“Man, you’re pushy, babe,” he laughed, sliding me off his lap. “But dinner should be about done.”

“What did you make me?” I asked, grinning sweetly.

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t make a goddamn thing, and you know that.  I did help Cindy with the dessert, though, but it was only because she guilted me into it by complaining how I don’t bring my _lovely new girlfriend_ around nearly enough.”

I smiled softly, practically able to hear the older woman’s sweet southern accent. “Did she leave already?”

“Probably,” he replied, glancing at his phone to check the time. “She left me with directions on how to finish up since she likes to be home before her grandkids get off school.”

I smiled softly.  I had only met Cindy a few times since she tended to work mostly during the day, but it was clear that Reggie really cared about her.  She had been with the Mantle’s since he was a little kid, after all, and she had definitely been around more than his parents when he was younger.

“Well then,” I said, taking his hand and mine and running my thumb over the back of it. “I’ll have to make sure to thank her next time I see her.”

“I’m sure she’d love that.” Reggie pressed a soft kiss into my temple. “So, ready to eat?”

“Absolutely.”

* * *

 

Leaning back in my chair, I lifted another forkful of chocolate cake to my mouth, letting my eyes drift shut. “Reggie, this was the best meal I think I’ve ever had.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around me to kiss the top of my head as he cleared my plate. “I’ll be sure to tell Cindy,” he laughed.  Then, he smirked, licking his lips. “I’ll admit that I’m still hoping for something a little sweeter tonight, though.” He shot me a wink as he walked to the dishwasher.

I rolled my eyes and stood up to help him with the dishes. “Has anyone ever told you that subtlety isn’t your strong suit?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the hottest girl in all of Riverdale?”

“Just Riverdale?” I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing a kiss into the back of his neck. “I thought I was the hottest girl in the whole-wide-world?”

He turned, pulling me into a tight embrace. “You’re right, babe.  You’re the hottest girl in the fucking universe.” His lips brushed against my cheek, and his breath was hot against my ear. “And since you’re so impossibly hot, I feel like we need to take some clothes off.”

“Reggie,” I laughed, feeling myself blush. “You better be talking about swimsuits for the hot tub.”

“Of course, I am, babe,” he chuckled, kissing me lightly on the cheek. “You did bring a swimsuit, right, because if not, I’m happy to—”

“Reggie!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughed, running his hand down my side to hold me against him. “I’ll go change first, though, so I can finish cleaning up while you’re getting ready, okay?”

“Sounds good.”  As he jogged out of the kitchen and up the stairs, I pulled out my phone to text Moose.  As promised, Reggie had worked things out with him, and the two seemed to be on good terms again.  Before I could respond to his jokey text about using protection, though, Reggie was back, wearing nothing but swim trunks hanging low on his hips.  My eyes widened—shirtless Reggie, no matter how many times I saw him, never got old.  Everything about him, from the firm muscles of his chest, to his abs, to the faint trail of hair leading down toward…

Reggie smirked. “My eyes are up here, angel.”

“Where?” I asked, snapping out of it to give him a confused look.  My lips curved into a slight grin. “I can’t seem to find them behind that massive ego of yours.”

“Ha, ha.  You go get ready, babe—I’ll meet you out there with the champagne.”

I glanced at the bottle, my eyes widening when I saw the brand name. “Jesus, Reg, you went all-out, didn’t you?”

“Only the best for my girl.” He kissed me lightly on the lips. “Now, go get changed.”

Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I kissed him on the cheek. “Someone seems a little eager to get me in a swimsuit.”

He rolled his eyes, and then his smile softened. “You know I love you, right?  Like more than anyone in the world, even if I am a massive idiot like 90% of the time, and I make inappropriate jokes 100% of the time.”

“Reg, you’re not an idiot,” I replied, pulling myself closer to him for a quick kiss.

“That’s a lie, Lydia.”

“Fine, you are an idiot, but you’re _my_ idiot.”

* * *

 

Of all things that could bring my night to an abrupt halt, I never thought it would be a swimsuit.  As soon as I got up to Reggie’s room, I opened my bag and dug out the two options I had brought with me.  One was my usual swimsuit, a simple pink one-piece that was the only option my parents had ever allowed me to own.  The other was courtesy of a certain spring break shopping trip with Midge.  It was a black bikini with floral print and a high waist, and I had never actually worn it outside of the changing room where Midge swore to me that it looked good. 

When I packed the bikini, I had told myself that I would wear it, that Reggie had already seen me in a bra and panties, so it’s not like this would be any more revealing.  I had no reason to be nervous, and I knew it, but as soon as I pulled the thin scraps of material out of my bag, it felt like my heart was going to pound right out of my chest.  It had been over two weeks since that day in his room, that day he told me he loved me, and I told him I loved him too.  Two weeks I’d been thinking about how far we’d gone and how much further I’d wanted to go.

With a shaky breath, I glanced at my phone—I had already been gone too long.  If I took any longer to change, Reggie would start to think I fell down the stairs and died or something and come looking for me.  Sucking in a deep breath, I grabbed the bikini, changing quickly and trying not to think about it any more than I had to.  As I tucked my clothes back in the bag, I reminded myself that it was just Reggie.  Reggie, the amazing, wonderful guy who had never pushed me an inch past what I was comfortable with, the guy who I desperately wanted to be with more than anyone else in the world.

Pulling my hair up, I hurried down the stairs and out the back door to the porch where the hot tub was.  The sun had fully set, and the only light was coming from the strings of glowing lights that wrapped around the porch.  Reggie was already in the hot tub, and there were two glasses of champagne on the edge of it.

As soon as he saw me, his eyes lit up, and he caught his lower lip in his teeth, biting back a smirk. “Damn, babe, you look amazing.”

“Thanks,” I replied, smiling nervously I climbed in with him.  I slid into place, and he wrapped his arm around me, holding me close.  Immediately, I let out a sigh of relief, relaxing into his arms.  He handed me the champagne, and I took a sip, surprised by how much I liked it. “This is absolutely perfect, Reggie,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “Really.”

He beamed, clearly thrilled that all his planning had paid off. “You really do look spectacular, by the way.”

“Reg,” I whined, burying my face in his shoulder to cover my blush. “Stop.”

He smirked, lifting my chin to kiss me. “I love you, Lydia.”

“I love you too, Reggie.” I took another sip of my champagne and then set it down, leaning in closer to him to brush my lips against his neck.  Reggie grabbed my waist, pulling me the rest of the way onto his lap.

“Remember Lyds, I—”

“I know, I know,” I cut him off. “You have no expectations, you don’t want to pressure me, you’re the best boyfriend in the whole entire world.” Smiling, I ran my hand through his hair, taking a deep breath to steady myself. “But the thing is, Reggie, _I_ have some expectations for tonight.”

“Oh, do you?” His eyebrows rose, and he looked genuinely stunned. “And what might those be, Lyds?”

“Well.” I exhaled slowly, trying to calm my racing heart. “I don’t think I’m quite ready to have sex yet, but I want to do something.  I—um—want to—”

“Hey, relax, babe.” He tucked a lock of loose hair behind my ear. “It’s just me.  And you definitely don’t have to explain yourself to me wanting to do _something_.” He grinned, tugging my hips even closer to his.

“Oh, God, this is so embarrassing, Reg.” I rested my head on his shoulder in an attempt to collect myself. “I can’t even say it out loud.”

He chuckled, running his hands down my back to pull me in closer to him.  Our chests were pressed together, and I could feel his heart pounding just as hard as mine. “How about this, then?  Instead of saying anything, you can just kiss me.  We have a whole night to ourselves right now—no parents, no friends, and plenty of champagne.” His deep brown eyes were fixed on mine. “Let’s just take our time, _relax_ , and see what happens, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Excellent.” His lips found mine, and his hands drifted back to my waist, holding me tightly in place.  The heat from the water seemed to be seeping through me, and I wasn’t sure if it was that, the alcohol, or the feeling of Reggie’s body under mine that was making me light-headed. 

I let out a breathy moan as he sucked on my pulse point.  His lips curved into a smile, and he chuckled. “That’s it, angel, relax.” His hands slid down my waist to my hips, his fingertips creeping lower.

“Reggie,” I breathed, running my hand through his hair to bring his lips to mine.  Languidly, I kissed my way down his neck, loving the way his breathing went ragged as I nipped at the skin there.  My entire body felt like it was on fire now, a dull ache spreading from my core all the way to the tips of fingers.

“Holy shit, Lydia,” he breathed, his hands moving firmly to my butt, pushing me down onto him.  He jerked his hips into mine, letting out a low moan.

I gasped, feeling how hard he was beneath me.  Clinging to his shoulders, I kissed him hard, desperately holding our bodies together.  My entire body was covered in goosebumps, and his skin was hot against mine.  I rolled my hips into his, soft whimpers escaping my lips between kisses.

“Reggie, can we— _shit_ —can we move to your room?”

“Mhm,” he murmured, his lips still pressed against my neck. Clinging to my hips, he started to stand, pulling us both out of the water and into the chilly night air.  Laughing, I climbed over the edge of the hot tub, only shivering for a second before Reggie had me in an embrace again, his warm body covering mine.  His lips were soft, parting my lips to draw me deeper into the kiss. “I love you, Lydia,” he whispered. “So much.”

“I know, Reggie.” I smiled softly, pulling back to look at him. “I know, and I love you, too.”

His eyes lit up, and before I knew it, he was sweeping me off my feet. “Well, then, we need to get inside.”

“Seriously, Reggie, again?” I laughed, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to hold myself up. “I do have functioning legs, you know.”

“And as you’ve said yourself, they’re very little legs, and I happen to be in a hurry.” He grabbed the towels from the counter, setting me down once we got inside. 

Wrapping the fluffy towel around myself, I looked up at him with a smirk. “So, am I allowed to walk the rest of the way?”

“I’d say so,” he replied, bending down to press his lips into mine.  He slipped his hands under the towel, wrapping them around my hips to tug me in close. “Are you sure about this, Lydia?”

What happened to just letting things happen, Reggie?”

“Hey, I’m all about letting things happen—I just want to make sure that you’re comfortable with it.” He paused, searching my eyes for any hint of hesitation. “Promise me you’ll tell me if I’m going too far.”

“I will,” I assured him. “If you promise to stop asking every four seconds.”

He rolled his eyes, then smiled. “I will.” His grin widened as he grabbed my hand to lead me up the stairs.  We scrambled into his room, yanking the door shut behind us.  Reggie wrapped me in his arms, his lips slamming into mine as he tossed the towel aside.  Clutching his shoulders, I wrapped my legs around him, kissing him desperately.

Reggie walked over to the bed, setting me down and climbing on top of me.  I parted my legs, grabbing his waist to pull him onto me. “Shit, Reggie,” I breathed. “Wow.”

“Wow is right,” he murmured, his lips drifting down to my collarbones.  Slowly, he tugged the elastic out of my hair, letting it fall free on the pillow. “You’re so fucking beautiful, babe.”

I tipped my head back, biting back a moan as he ran his fingertips lightly up my sides.  Gripping my ribs, he lifted me upright, his hands moving to the clasp on the back of my top.  Then, he paused, his lips parted as he looked searchingly at me.  Swallowing hard, I nodded.

Slowly, Reggie undid the clasp, his lips soft on my shoulder as he pushed the straps down.  The material dragged down my skin, cool and damp, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.  I ran one hand through his hair, and with the other, I held his arm, breathing hard in an attempt to steady my nerves.  Even Moose hadn’t seen me topless—we had been in too much of a hurry to deal with getting all our clothes off.  Reggie wasn’t in any hurry, though.  He was taking his time, kissing me as he dragged the straps down my arms, savoring every new inch of skin.

“Oh fuck, Lyds,” he breathed, tossing the top aside. “Fuck.” His breath was hot against my chest as his thumb brushed over my nipple.

My back arched, and I squeezed his arm tightly. “Oh my God, Reggie.”

He smirked, licking his lips before lowering them to my nipple.  I gasped, pleasure searing through me as he licked and sucked.  His hands were roaming my body, setting my skin on fire as he crept down to the waistband of my bikini bottom.  He pulled his mouth back with a pop, looking up at me. “Lydia, can I—”

“Yes,” I breathed, pulling his face back up to mine for a kiss.  The heat between my legs was spreading, and I desperately needed him to keep going. “Fuck, Reggie, yes.”

“Shit, Lyds.” He gripped the material and started dragging it down past my hips and then all the way off.  For a moment, I was gripped with nerves, and then Reggie’s lips were on mine, and all I could think about was him and the way he was making me feel. “Remember, one word, and I’ll stop.”

I dragged my eyes open, forcing myself to give him a stern look. “Don’t you dare, Reggie.”

He moaned, his breathing going ragged as he kissed me intently. “Do you trust me, Lydia?”

“More than anyone.”

“Good.” Gently, he cupped my face, pressing a soft kiss into my forehead. “Then, all I need you to do is lay back, relax, and let me make you feel good.”

I laughed, running my hand through his hair as his lips danced down my stomach.  “I think I can manage that.”

Slowly, he slid further down the bed, bending my legs as he dragged them apart.  My grip on his hair tightened, nerves overtaking me as I realized just how exposed I was.

“Relax,” he reminded me, placing soft kisses on my inner thigh. “It’s just me, babe, I’ve got you.”

I took a deep breath, exhaling hard. “I know.”

Biting back a moan, Reggie ran his fingertips down my slit, and my hips bucked in response.  “Fuck,” he murmured, his lips drawing nearer and nearer to my core. “Holy fuck, Lydia.”

I clung to his hair, urging him forward.  Electricity ran through my veins, and I shuddered out a moan. “Please, Reg, keep going.”

His breath was hot on my soaked core, and then his lips were on me, his tongue flicking against my clit.  My entire body reacted, pleasure surging through me in a way I’d never felt before. “That’s it, angel,” he said. “Fuck, yes, that’s it.” Slowly, he started sliding a finger into me, and I slammed my hand over my mouth, muffling whatever noise I was about to make.  He continued working his tongue over my clit as his finger curled inside me. 

With one hand in his hair and the other fisting the blanket, I tried to keep myself still.  Luckily, Reggie was holding my hips down, keeping me in place. “Fuck,” I moaned. “Oh shit, Reggie, I—oh my God.” The sensations were starting to overtake me, the ache in my center becoming almost unbearable, reaching a point that was entirely unfamiliar.

Instead of saying anything, Reggie just kept doing what he was doing, sliding another finger into me.  He moaned, and the vibrations rippled through me, making me buck my hips.  My breath was getting ragged, and all I could do was gasp and whimper his name.  The pressure was building, and suddenly, everything exploded.  My climax shot through me like an electric shock, the sensations so strong they almost hurt.  My legs went weak, and my heart was racing.  Heat flooded my body, and my breathing shortened.  All I could do was writhe with pleasure, my mind going completely blank.    

Reggie licked through it, his pace slowing as I came down.  I relaxed into the bed, loosening my grip on his hair as my senses returned.

“Shit, Reggie,” I breathed, my head still spinning as he crawled up the bed to press soft kisses into my shoulder.

“Was that okay?” he asked.  His voice was soft, almost nervous, and if I were less winded, I would have laughed.

I rolled over, kissing him lightly and attempting to drag my eyes open. “Okay?  Seriously, Reg, that was fucking spectacular.”

“Jeez, Lydia, keep saying things like that, and my ego will really be out of control.” He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me tight against him to kiss my forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Running my hand down his chest, I teased lightly at the smooth muscles of his chest and abs. “Thank you so much.”

“For what?” he scoffed, his breath still heavy. “I’ve been wanting to do that for _ages_.”

I laughed, burying my face in his shoulder. “Reggie, you’re so dumb.  Thank you for being so perfect, though.  Really, you’ve been so patient and awesome, and that really was amazing.”

His grin widened as he ran his fingers up and down my stomach. “You’re amazing.”

“On that note,” I drawled, “how would you feel about me…maybe returning the favor?”

His eyes popped open, and it took a moment for him to stammer out a reply. “Lydia, are you sure?  I—um—wow.”

“Yeah, Reggie, I’m sure,” I said, my voice coming out shockingly level.  Slowly, I pushed him back onto the pillows, climbing on top of him.  Beneath me, I could feel his erection straining against the confines of his swim trunks. “I mean, come on.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “You can’t just give a girl her first—well, that, and expect nothing in return.”   

His eyes widened further, if it was even possible. “First—um—first what, Lyds?”

I groaned, a heated blush creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. “Literally everything that just happened.” I sighed, trying not to let myself get lost in memories. “Let’s just say that my first time wasn’t exactly the best for me—we kind of got right to the point.”

“Shit, Lyds, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, cupping my face to keep my gaze on him.

“Why would I?” I kissed him quickly, trying not to focus on the sympathetic look in his eyes. “You told me to relax, and conversations like this don’t tend to be super relaxing for me, so I figured it could wait.”

He laughed, brushing his hair off my face to kiss me more deeply. “I suppose that makes sense.  So, you’re sure you want to try this?”

“I’m sure.” I readjusted my position on his lap, remembering exactly how naked I was when he let out a low moan. “You’re going to have to give me some pointers, though, seeing as I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.”

He bit his lip, swallowing hard before replying. “Babe, I have complete confidence that you’re going to be amazing.”

I smiled softly, trying not to laugh at the desperate edge in his voice. “Is right here a good place to do it?”

“Here is perfect,” he said quickly, his fingertips digging painfully into my hips.

I laughed harder, kissing my way down his neck as I grabbed the waistband of his shorts.  Slowly, I pulled them down, shifting off his lap and into the space between his legs.  My hands were steady, and I amazed myself by how distinctly not-nervous I was.  His erection sprang out, hitting his stomach.  I swallowed hard, my breath catching as I wrapped my hand around it.

Reggie hissed out a moan, his eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, Lyds.”

My lips curved into a smile—if I could get that kind of reaction with a touch, maybe I wouldn’t be quite so terrible at this after all.  Cautiously, I started stroking him, and he let out a shuddered moan, winding his hand through my hair.  Gaining confidence, I pumped him a few more times, watching him closely with every moan that slipped from his lips.  His entire body was tense, every muscle flexed as he held himself still.  I ran my hand down his abs, letting out a breathy moan.

“Reggie, can I—"

“Babe, you can do whatever the hell you want,” he breathed, looking up at me through hooded eyes. “Seriously, _whatever_ you want.”

I laughed, taking a steadying breath and licking my lips before lowering my mouth to him.  Readjusting my grip, I started to suck, unsure of what I was doing but spurred on by the sounds he was making.  Reggie had never been quiet, but he was moaning so loudly that I half-worried the neighbors might hear him. 

Quickly, I got into a rhythm, listening to what made Reggie moan the loudest and adjusting accordingly.  As I relaxed, I was able to take him deeper, earning louder and rougher moans.  His grip on my hair tightened, and he was having a hard time keeping his hips down on the bed.

“Fuck, Lyds, I’m—shit, I’m close.  You can—you don’t have to—”

I caught a quick breath before continuing.  Briefly, I remembered something Midge said, something about it not tasting nearly as bad as she thought it would.  At the time, I had ignored her, but now, I was going to take her words to heart.

Reggie’s moans got louder, and then he froze, his jaw going slack as he finished in my mouth.  I swallowed, barely noticing the taste because I was too distracted by him—the way he completely lost control, his hips jerking as he moaned my name.  The taut muscles of his abdomen were strained, hot beneath the palm of my free hand.  His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips parted, and his skin flushed.  The whole room felt hot, and the sounds he was making were making me want to go again.

If this is what sex was _supposed_ to be like, I suddenly understood the appeal in a whole new way.

I pulled back with a soft pop, wiping my mouth clean before I looked up at him.  His eyes were still shut, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.  After a moment, he dragged his eyes open, his lips curving into a soft smile as he jerked his head upwards. “C’mere.”

Rolling my eyes, I crawled up to him, curling into his arms and sighing contentedly. “Was it okay?”

“Lydia, quoting you, that was fucking spectacular.” He kissed my temple, brushing my messy hair off my forehead. “Like, really fucking spectacular.”

I felt my face redden, and pressed a soft kiss into his shoulder. “Even though it was my first time?”

“Babe, if that was your first time, I have a feeling I may be in the best damn relationship of my life.”

Smacking his chest weakly, I rolled my eyes. “Shut up, Reg.”

“Really, though, Lydia,” he said, his voice low. “How was that?  Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I really am—more than okay, actually.  Tonight has been amazing, Reg, and I’m so glad we did this.”

“Me, too.” He brushed his lips against my forehead, lifting my chin to kiss me for real. “I love you so much, Lyds.”

“I love you too, Reggie, so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!! Anyone who's made it this far with me absolutely means the world to me!
> 
> Be sure to let me know if you liked the chapter, and prepare your hearts for what's about to be a pretty intense third act.
> 
> PS: Let me know if what day I update makes a difference to you. I'm feeling Wednesday, but I could be tempted to switch to Thursday.


	16. Chapter 16

Light was just starting to filter through the curtains when Reggie opened his eyes.  At first, he was confused, and the events from the night before were fuzzy.  Then, Lydia shifted in his arms, and it all came rushing back—every look, every kiss, every touch.  The memories flooded over him like a tidal wave, and he couldn’t control his smile.  Lazily, he ran his fingertips down her arm, tracing circles across her soft skin.  She shuddered slightly, pressing herself closer to him.

Her hair was wild and messy, splayed across his pillow.  He brushed it out of her face, being careful not to wake her.  In her sleep, she looked so peaceful, so serene that he almost couldn’t believe she was real.  She was barely dressed, wearing nothing but panties and one of his football shirts, and she looked absolutely perfect.  Gently, he kissed the top of her head, taking in the sweet, floral scent and wondering how the hell he got so lucky.

Letting out a yawn, Lydia shifted, and she jumped slightly when she realized where she was.  Then, she relaxed and rolled over, smiling sleepily. “Morning,” she mumbled.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he replied, kissing her forehead. “Sleep well?”

“Incredibly.” She stretched, wrapping her arms around him and pulling herself close.  Her eyes were still half shut as her body melted into his. “Your bed is seriously comfy.”

He laughed. “Yeah, those million thread count sheets really do make all the difference, don’t they?”

She rolled her eyes, pressing a soft kiss into his neck. “You’re a pretty good cuddler, too, Reg.”

“What time are your parents expecting you home this morning?” He ran his fingertips through her hair, smiling at her relaxed sigh.

“I kept it vague,” she replied with a yawn.  She rubbed her eyes and looked up at him. “Mind if I use your bathroom?”

“All yours, beautiful.”

She nodded, rolling out of his grasp and off the bed.  Tiredly, she fished a toiletry case out of her bag and walked into the attached bathroom.  Reggie watched as she walked, transfixed by the way she moved, the way her long hair drifted across her back, the way she looked so perfectly at home in his room.  It made his heart race, and he wished that every morning could be just like that.

* * *

 

As soon as I pulled my car into the driveway, I let out a loud groan.  Noah was home, probably taking advantage of one of his last free weekends before school really started to eat all the food in our fridge and con Mom and Dad into giving him gas money.  Normally, that would be fine—when Noah was home, my parents were infinitely less concerned with what I was up to and therefore much less likely to notice the holes in my _sleepover at Nancy’s_ story.  Today, though, I had a feeling he’d sense I’d been up to no good.  He’d always seemed to have a built-in sensor for when I was doing something I shouldn’t.

Sighing, I shouldered my bag and pushed open the door, bracing myself for whatever was to come.

“Why good morning, sleepyhead,” Noah said, smirking over his coffee cup as I attempted futilely to sneak into the house.

I shot him a glare, daring him to say something else. “Morning, Noah.”

My look told him all he needed, and his grin widened. “Heard you were sleeping over at Nancy’s last night—is she a new friend?”

Rolling my eyes, I dropped my bag in the corner and grabbed a mug for coffee. “She is, as a matter of fact.”

“What’s her last name?”

“Woods.”

“Where’s she from?”

“Centerville.”

“What’d you do last night?”

“Watch movies and eat too much food.”

“And were his parents home?”

“No, of course, they weren’t.” The words slipped out before I could even consider them, and I slapped my hand over my mouth. “Goddamn it, Noah!”

He burst into laughter, setting down his coffee so he could bend over, clutching his stomach. “Oh my God, it worked.  I never thought that’d actually work!”

“It’s not that funny, you idiot,” I groaned, grabbing the newspaper off the table to smack him with it. “And you need to shut your mouth before Mom or Dad hears.”

He rolled his eyes, still chuckling as he took another sip of coffee. “Whatever you say, kiddo.”

“And stop calling me kiddo!  I’m only three years younger than you!”

“Three years younger, and infinitely less worldly,” he mused, kicking a chair away from the table for me to sit in. “And anyway, Mom and Dad are out, so take a seat, Lydia.”

“Out?  Where’d they go?” I asked, reluctantly setting my coffee on the table and sitting down with him.

“Breakfast—I didn’t get up early enough, so they ditched me.”

“Fair.”

“Hey, we don’t need to talk about me right now.” He gave me a hard look. “You, on the other hand…”

“Noah, whatever you’re going to say, don’t.” I ran my hand through my hair, anxiously tugging at the roots. “I know you don’t approve—you’ve made that infinitely clear.  So, I really don’t need yet another lecture on why he’s bad for me.”

His eyebrows rose, and he bit his lower lip, trying not to smile. “Who said I was going to lecture you?  Hell, Lydia, I was going to tell you I changed my mind.”

My mouth fell open, and I had to stare at him for a moment, assuring that it was still, in fact, my brother sitting across from me and not some alien who happened to look like him. “What are you talking about?”

Shaking his head, he laughed. “Damn, is no one but you allowed to change their mind around here?”

“Well, no, but—” I sputtered. “But last time we talked about this, you were all over me about how bad of an idea it was.”

“Sure, but that was weeks ago.” He absentmindedly fiddled with the handle of his coffee mug. “Back when it still seemed like you would break down if someone looked at you wrong.”

I took a sip of my coffee and glared at him. “That’s an exaggeration, Noah.”

“Is it?  Hell, Lydia, most nights, you were crying yourself to sleep, and don’t you try to deny it because I was sleeping in the room next door.” His voice softened. “It killed me to see you like that, Lyds, but it’s not like that anymore.”

“How would you know?  You’re barely home for more than a few days at a time.”

“Which makes it all the more obvious that your entire goddamn demeanor has changed.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Trust me, I _hate_ to admit it, but it seems like this guy might not be the absolute worst.”

“Might not be the absolute worst?” I responded with a smirk. “That’s still not very high praise.”

“From me, it is.”

I smiled softly. “Fine, I’ll take it.”

“Good.” His smile faded slightly. “Just, be careful, okay?  And if you ever need someone to talk to, you know you can always call me, right?”

“Will you promise to never drive back to Riverdale just to yell at me again?”

He rolled his eyes. “That was one time.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Fine, I promise, but I’m not going to make any guarantees about driving back to Riverdale to beat the shit out of a certain little punk if he breaks my sister’s heart.”

_“Noah.”_

“Just saying, I will.”

I rolled my eyes and got up from the table.  Grabbing my bag, I started toward the stairs. “Alrighty, then, I think I’m going to head to my room and try to fall asleep before Mom and Dad get home.”

Noah bit back a laugh. “What, didn’t get much sleep last night?”

Instead of responding, I just groaned and slumped into my room.

* * *

 

Reggie fiddled with the straw of his milkshake.  He knew he shouldn’t have ordered it—really, he shouldn’t even be at Pop’s—he was way too out of shape to be eating like that.  Considering the conversation he was about to have, though, he needed it.  He glanced anxiously at the door and then at his phone.  She was three minutes late.

_Relax, dumbass,_ he reminded himself.  _It’s just Josie.  One of your best friends._

The bell on the door rang, and Reggie looked up with a start.  She smirked slightly when she saw him, stopping at the counter to make an order before joining him at the booth.

She sat down, fixing her dark eyes on his and she folded her hands on the table. “This better be good, Reg.”

“I think it will be, Josie.” He dropped his straw back in the shake and looked up at her while making a weak attempt at a smile. “I owe you a major apology.”

Her lips quirked with amusement. “Go on.”

He sighed. “Well, for starters, we really haven’t talked much since I started dating Lydia.”

“I’m aware.  I kind of figured, though.” She smirked. “I mean, come on dude, it’s not super unusual to stop texting your friend with benefits when you start dating someone, especially someone that’s so goddamn sweet like that.”

His lips curved into a soft smile as he thought about Lydia, about the night before.  He shook it off, though, refocusing on the conversation at hand. “Yeah, but I’m still sorry.  We’ve been friends since way before the benefits, and it’s shitty of me to not even say hi at parties.”

“Seems like you’ve been too busy getting in fights to say hi to anyone,” she said, her eyebrows furrowing with concern even though her tone was light. “Trust me, I’m not taking that one too personally.”

He opened his mouth to respond, and then a waitress brought their food over.  Grateful for the distraction, Reggie started eating, hoping some non-idiotic words would come to him.

“So, what else is going on, Reg?  You look like you’re being eaten alive or something, and I really doubt that you asked me to lunch just to apologize.”

“That’s one way to put it.” He sighed, his hands clenching into fists in his lap.  He blinked hard, and when he looked back up at her, it was clear he was in pain. “Do you think this is a good idea, Josie?”

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and she took a bite of her burger before answering. “Why are you asking me?  I don’t know Lydia.”

“You know me, though,” Reggie replied. “Probably better than anyone except maybe Moose.”

“Okay then,” she sighed. “My gut says it’s a bad idea—she was Midge’s best friend and all, and you weren’t exactly over Midge last time we talked.  That sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

Reggie deflated, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I get that.”

“Not done yet, pretty boy.” She smiled, flicking a fry at him to make him look at her. “That’s my gut reaction.  The more I think about it, though, the more it makes sense.”

“Why?”

“Because you need someone like her, Reg.  You need someone who can bring you down a few notches, who gives you some kind of stability in your life.” She held his gaze, her brown eyes warm. “You’ve been going non-stop as long as I’ve known you, and you’ve always put way too much pressure on yourself.  I feel like you’ve been on the brink of destruction since we started high school.”

“And you think Lydia’s somehow going to fix that?”

“Woah, woah, woah, no, absolutely not.  You are not allowed to put that kind of bullshit expectation on her, Mantle.” Jose gave him a hard look, making sure that her point sank in. “What you are allowed to do, though, is confide in someone for once, let go of some of the demons you’ve been holding on to.  Let someone care about you for once.”

“Damn, Jo, since when did you become a therapist?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not nearly patient enough for that.  I am here for you, though, so is there anything else on your mind?”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his milkshake before answering. “Do you think it’s going to be weird to bring her to parties and stuff?”

“What do you mean?  Because she doesn’t drink much?”

“No, not that.” He bit his lip thoughtfully. “Just, being with everyone, you know?  She used to hang out with Midge and—well, mostly just Midge, actually.  And even Midge wasn’t super into that scene, she just came with Moose.  I’m just worried about it, that she won’t fit in or something, I guess.”

Josie gave him a perceptive look. “So, you sound like you’re telling the truth, but I don’t really believe you, Reg.  Are you sure you’re not worried that she _will_ fit in?”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Right now, you have her all to yourself.  Like you said, all she’s ever had was Midge.  Now, all she has is you.  It might be kind of scary that now she might be finding other people besides you.”

Reggie swallowed hard, his grip on his milkshake tightening. “I don’t think that’s it, Josie—of course, I want her to make other friends.”

“Okay, okay,” she chuckled, lifting her hands in surrender. “Just a thought, Reg, no need to get defensive.” She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. “Look, Reggie.  You deserve love just as much as anyone else, okay, and I may not know Lydia, but I know that if she’s the right girl, she’s going to love you just as much regardless of who else she spends time with, okay?”

He smiled slightly. “Okay.”

“Good.” Tapping her perfectly-manicured nails against the tabletop, she grinned. “You _are_ paying for lunch today, right?”

“Of course, I will,” he scoffed. “Least I can do for making you listen to me mope.”

“Reg, I’m always happy to listen to you mope.”

“That’s a lie.”

“It is, but I’ll do it anyways.” Her smile was soft. “Really, Reg, I don’t care how serious you and Lydia get, you’ll always be my friend, got it?”

“Got it.”

* * *

 

My eyes drifted shut as I dragged my fingertips across the rough carpet—the altar obviously wasn’t meant to be laid on, and it had probably been decades since said carpet had been replaced.  The sun had almost completely set, and the faint light filtering through the stained-glass cast everything with an eerie, blueish glow.  I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, desperate not to see the stoic Jesus statue staring down on me.

“God, this is stupid,” I whispered. “It’s not like anyone’s listening.” I took a deep breath, my whole chest heaving. “May as well try, though.  Midge, Jesus, whoever the hell is out there, I could sure use some help.”   

My hands clenched into tight fists. “Is this okay?  I mean, I get that I don’t really need permission to date him, but I just need to know if this is okay.  It’s only been a few months since—” I cut off, the words catching in my throat. “Is that too soon to be happy again?”

I felt the tears on my cheeks before I consciously realized I was crying.  Midge and I used to sneak into the church all the time, usually during sleepovers after my parents had gone to bed.  There was something wonderfully risky about it, knowing that we weren’t allowed to be there after dark, and when we were together, it wasn’t even all that creepy.  We would sit there for hours, talking, laughing, making dumb prank calls, all the normal sleepover stuff.  She would tell me about Moose, and I would gush about dumb shit like the time Archie and I had to be lab partners.  Back then, I never would have even considered dating Reggie Mantle, being friends with Moose, living a life without Midge.

Back then.

Back then was less than a year ago.  Less than twelve months since I had last sat with Midge in this very room laughing about boys and trying not to spill popcorn in the pews.  I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, trying to force the memories out of my mind before I started sobbing for real.

Next to me, my phone pinged.  Thankful for the distraction, I grabbed it and quickly unlocked it to see a text from Reggie.

_my bed feels so empty without you, beautiful ;)_

I rolled my eyes, biting back a shaky laugh.

_sounds like you might need to take care of yourself tonight, Reg_

His response was near-instantaneous.

_but you’re so much prettier <3 <3 <3_

Smiling slightly, I considered how to respond.  Reggie being flirty over text was nothing new, but I usually knew what to say back.  At that moment, though, all I could think about was Midge, how she would have been hounding me for details about the night before, how she probably would have loved the idea of me and Reggie dating.  She was always begging me to go on double-dates with her, and this would have been her chance.

My phone pinged again, and I was almost afraid to see what it said.

_hey, sorry if that was too far.  love you._

“Shit,” I muttered, quickly typing a response.

_no, Reg, it’s fine.  just having a weird night.  love you too._

_is everything okay?  want me to come over?_

_you don’t have to_.

I dropped the phone onto my chest, wishing I hadn’t said anything at all.  He _would_ rush over, and the last thing I needed was for him to see me being a basket case about Midge after our first time spending the night together.

_be there in ten_.

Ten was more like five, and I barely had time to make sure my makeup wasn’t running before I heard footsteps from the lobby.  Reggie pushed open the door slowly, almost like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to come in.

“Lydia?” he whispered, his low voice carrying through the empty room.

“Mhm,” I replied, pushing myself up on my elbows to look at him.

He walked down the aisle, giving me a skeptical look. “Do you often hang out in the sanctuary alone when you’re upset?”

I rolled my eyes, gesturing for him to sit down. “As a matter of fact, I do.  It calms me down, and no one’s ever in here outside of Sunday mornings.”

Sitting, he looked around, his face scrunching with confusion. “So, what is it that’s calming here—the creepy Jesus statue, the weird lighting, the dark shadowy corners, or the way it creaks in the wind?”

“You’re such a baby,” I muttered, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him all the way onto the floor with me.  Laughing silently, he lay down, letting me curl into him and use his chest as a pillow. “It’s just a building, you know.”

Lazily, he ran his hand through my hair, tugging gently at the roots so I’d look at him. “So, what’s up, babe?”

I sighed, taking in his familiar scent. “I don’t know.  I was just thinking about Midge more than usual tonight.”

“Why’s that?”

“She would—” I cut off, swallowing hard. “She would have been so happy for us.  She was always trying to hook me up with someone, and me being in an actual, real-live relationship would have killed her.  When I got home, I—” My voice caught, and I had to fight to keep the tears back. “The first thought I had was that I should call Midge.”

“Shit, Lyds.” His lips brushed against my forehead, and he wrapped his arms more tightly around me, nearly pulling me on top of him. “I wish there was something I could do.”

“You already are just by being here.” I ran my hand down his shoulder to his arm, amazed by how familiar his body already felt.  It wouldn’t be hard to lose myself like that, exploring his body with my hands, feeling the curve of every muscle, the heat of his skin touching mine. “I love you, Reggie.”

“I love you too, Lydia.” He cupped my cheek, pulling my face to his for a lingering kiss. “And I feel like there’s more you want to talk about.”

“I hate that, you know?”

“Hate what?” His eyebrows scrunched together with confusion.

“That you’re so good at reading me—it’s unfair.”

“You have a very expressive face, Lydia,” he chuckled, tracing the curve of my lip with his thumb. “I feel like I’d have to be pretty damn dense to not be able to read you.  Now, tell me what’s up.”

I bit my lip, letting go when I realized I was about to break the skin. “What if Midge was it?”

His grip on my waist tightened. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if she was it?  What if she was the only best friend I was going to get.  Of course, I have you and Moose, but I can’t exactly call him up and gush about something cute you did.  Seriously, you guys are great and all, but I just— _fuck,_ I just miss her so much.”

“I know.” His voice was low, his lips pressed against my temple so I couldn’t see his face. “I know, and I know there’s nothing I can say or do that will change this whole goddamn thing.  You have to know that this isn’t the end, though, Lyds.  You’re going to make more friends before you know it, especially once school starts.”

I scoffed, my voice starting to sound watery. “That’s easy to say when you’re popular, Reg.  Literally, everyone wants to be your friend.  And we’re going to be juniors this year—it’s not like I can just slide into some pre-existing friend group and pray that they like me.  Everyone already has their people, and my person is dead.”

“Fuck, Lydia, do you think I’m going to throw you to the wolves or something?  We’re going to be a goddamn package deal this year, and my friends are not going to be my friends long if they think they can get away with ignoring you.” He smiled softly, bringing his lips to mine briefly. “You have a place in this world, Lydia.  I promise.”

“But what if I don’t?” Slowly, I slid out of his arms so I could sit up. “All my life, I’ve been confident about one thing—God loves me, and this church is my home.  Now, I’m not so sure.  Losing Midge was so much more than losing Midge.  I literally don’t know what to believe anymore, what’s real and what’s just an illusion of some non-existent hope.”

Reggie sat up with me.  A thoughtful look on his face, he ran his hand through his hair.  Then, he took my hands in his, fixing his gaze on me. “Lydia, if you’d asked me a year ago if I believed in God, the answer would be no.  Hell, if you asked me a month ago, the answer would be no.  Now, though, shit, I might even say maybe.”

I laughed, his easy smile contagious. “Maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe.  I’m not about to say yes, but I don’t think it’s quite as firm of a resounding no anymore.”

“And why’s that?”

“Why do you think, angel?” His smile softened, and he pressed a light kiss into the back of my hand. “It’s you.  I’m not saying I believe in anything yet, but if there’s anyone who could make me believe, it’s you.  The way you love is intense, Lyds.  I’ve never seen anything like it—I can show you all the ugliest parts of me, and you say it’s okay.  No matter how much of a dumbass I am, it’s always good enough.  With you, I’m good enough.” He shook his head, chuckling dryly. “And I don’t know if it’s you or the big guy, but I’m starting to think there might just be more to all this bullshit than bending and twisting and ripping myself into pieces so I fit into all these fucking boxes people want to put me in.”

My eyes felt watery, and I wiped them with my sleeve before answering. “Have you ever considered that you are just worth it, Reggie?  That the way I love you isn’t anything extraordinary, but your parents have just done a really good job of making you feel like crap?” I slid closer to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “You are good enough, Reggie, and you always have been, regardless of what they’ve told you.”

He smirked, pressing his lips into mine fervently.  We clung to each to each other, his fingertips digging into my hips as he pulled me close.  I wound my hand into his hair, desperate to feel his body against mine.  Then, after what could have been seconds or days, he pulled back, his breath heavy.

“Lydia, you’re dreaming if you think you’re anything less than extraordinary.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you're enjoying this, please drop a comment. They really do mean the world to me!
> 
> We're officially 2/3 of the way through this fic now, and I have to say, the last third gets kind of angsty for a little while. Stick with me, though, because I'm a sucker for happy endings.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: teen drinking and drunkenness, some sexual language, fighting (the emotional kind)

Grinning from ear to ear, Reggie pulled the lawnmower into the shed, jumping off and dropping the keys in the box with a satisfying _clink_.  He glanced down at his phone to see that it was already noon.  12:00 PM, on August 3 rd, 2018.  The day he was finally done with his community service.  Double-checking that Pastor Boyd’s car was still gone, he didn’t bother to put his shirt back on before strolling into the church.  When he got to the office, though, Lydia’s chair was empty, and her computer was off.

His smile dropping slightly, he headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time.  Following the light from down the hall, he found Lydia in the youth room lying on her stomach on a couch, her phone in hand.  Her forehead was wrinkled with a focused expression, and she didn’t even notice him right away. 

He smirked. “Please don’t tell me you’re playing that stupid game again.”

“Shit, Reggie,” she cursed, nearly dropping the phone.  She glared at him over the screen. “You made me lose a life.”

Rolling his eyes, he snatched the phone, tucking it in his pocket before scooping her up to slide onto the couch with her.

“Reggie, you’re all sweaty,” she whined, pushing him back slightly. “And you’re way too hot to be this close to me right now.”

“Me, too hot?” His eyebrows rose, and he licked his lips. “You know it, angel.”

She rolled her eyes, attempting futilely not to smile. “You know what I mean, Reg.  It’s like a million degrees out there.”

“Is that why you’re in the basement?” he asked, nuzzling against her neck with soft kisses. “Too hot upstairs?”

“Kind of,” she said, her voice catching as he hit her pulse point. “And you need to chill out.” Giving him a stern look, she laced her fingers through his hair to hold him back slightly. “We’re still in a church you know.”

“And it’s my last day of work,” he replied with a cheeky grin. “So, I think I should get some kind of reward.”

“Your reward is not going to jail, dude.”  Her lips still curved into a slight smile, she loosened her grip on his hair and leaned in close to press a quick kiss into his lips.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” He ran his hand through her hair, his eyes drifting shut as he marveled in the familiar softness.  Slowly, he found her lips with his own, moving on instinct as their bodies pressed together.  She made a soft sound in the back of her throat, and it seemed to shoot straight through him.  He gripped her waist tighter, holding her firmly in place against him. “I love you, Lydia,” he murmured, his lips still brushing against hers.

“I love you, too, Reggie,” she whispered.  She pressed another soft kiss into his lips before pulling back. “Still in a church, though,” she reminded him.

He smirked, recognizing the flush in her cheeks and feeling how fast her heart was beating.  In the weeks since she’d spent the night at his place, he’d become a master of reading her body like that.  They’d spent endless hours wrapped up in each other, curled into his bed just kissing, touching, and exploring.  While they hadn’t gone “all the way” yet, Reggie didn’t mind.  It was enough just being with her, learning that her sides were ticklish and her ribs especially sensitive, that she tried her hardest to stay quiet like she was afraid of completely letting go.  He loved the way she reacted to him, the way she clutched his bicep as her pale skin flushed with heat, the way she breathed his name, her lips hot on his.  He loved everything about her, almost so much that it scared him. 

When he was with her like this, alone with no one but each other and their feelings, he could pretend his doubts didn’t exist, that they really did just live in a perfect little world with no one but them.  He could pretend that things weren’t about to change, that the summer ending didn’t have to mean a new challenge in their relationship.  Something always had to bring him crashing back down to reality, though.  Life always had to get in the way.

“Hey, Reg, you still with me?” she asked, her lips curving into an amused grin as she dragged her fingertips down his jawline. “Thought I lost you for a minute there.”

He chuckled, kissing her on the forehead and fighting not to lose himself again. “Just thinking about you, beautiful.”

“Okay, sure.” She bit her lip as a blush crept up her cheeks. “On an unrelated note, are we still going to Chuck’s party tonight?”

Reggie had to bite back a groan.  The party.  Chuck’s party.  After the pre-season game where he would be riding the bench for getting suspended from practice.  Awesome. “I was planning on it,” he said, selecting his next words carefully. “Unless, of course, you’d rather do literally _anything_ else.”

Her smile faded slightly, and she gave him a firm look. “No way, Reg.  I _want_ to go.”

“Really?” Wrapping his arms tighter around her waist, his eyebrows knitted together. “You _really_ want to go to a football team party at Chuck’s house?  Chuck Clayton?”

“You know what I mean,” she replied, shoving him slightly. “I want to be a part of your world, Reggie, and not just when it’s the two of us and it’s easy.  If I’m going to do that, I need to get to know your friends, too.”

“You know my friends,” he countered. “Moose, Josie, Chuck, that’s about all there is to it.”

She gave him a hard look. “Keep coming up with excuses like that, and I’m going to think you’re embarrassed to be with me.”

“Shit, no, babe, of course, that’s not it, you know I—”

“I know, Reggie.” She cut him off. “I know.  I’m kidding.  I just—” She sighed, pulling back from him slightly and averting her gaze. “I just need to know I can do it, you know.  I need to know that we can be a couple outside of this summer.” She swallowed hard, and a note of fear crept into her voice. “I need to know that this isn’t just going to be a summer thing and that when we go back to school, it’s not all going to be over.”

“Lyds, you know I—”

“I know what you’ve said, Reggie.” Her voice evened out, coming out a little stronger now, and she turned back to look at him.  Gently, she cupped his cheek, her hand soft against his skin. “And I know you really do mean it.  We need to find out if it’s true, though, if it’s really going to work.”

“I promise you, Lydia,” he said, resting his hand on top of hers, holding it in place. “I’m going to make this work.”

* * *

 

It had been months since I’d been in Chuck’s house, and while everything looked almost exactly the same, I couldn’t feel more different.  Last time, I had just met Reggie, had just slept with Moose, and couldn’t go more than a minute without seeing Midge in every corner.  This time, there was a strong arm around my waist, holding me up as much as he was keeping me close.  This time, I wasn’t going to have to be carried out by Moose.  This time, things were going to be better.

“Damn, look who the cat dragged in,” Josie said, her voice cutting through the pounding music as she approached us. “Reggie and Lydia—glad to see you guys still exist.”

Reggie rolled his eyes and took the drink she was holding out to him—a solo cup filled with cheap beer. “Real funny, Josie.”

She handed me a drink next, something bright red that smelled like vodka. “Figured you’d want the punch—it’s so much better than that shitty beer.”

“Thanks,” I laughed, taking a small sip.  The drink wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, the fruity flavor canceling out some of the vodka taste.

“Has Chuck found you yet?” she asked, crossing her arms as she bobbed her head to the music. “The guy’s been way too excited for you to finally bring Lydia to a party.”

“Bring Lydia?” Reggie scoffed, giving me an affectionate squeeze. “She practically made me come.”

Josie’s lips curved into an amused grin, and she gave me a slight nod of approval. “Good—you could use someone telling you what to do every now and then, Mantle.”

Before he could make some kind of snarky response, someone was pulling us both into a tight embrace. “If it isn’t my two favorite people, finally out of the bedroom and back in public!”

I rolled my eyes, wiggling out of Moose’s grip. “You’re such an idiot, Moose.”

Reggie ruffled his hair back into place. “And we haven’t been in _the bedroom_ ,” he muttered.

“Either way, it’s been too damn long, and I’m ready to have some fun.  You guys good on drinks?”  He glanced at both of our cups, nodding with approval and flashing Josie a grin as she walked away. “Excellent.”

Glancing at Reggie, I released a tense breath.  Things were still a little off between him and Moose, but they were getting closer to normal every day.

“So, Reg, did Coach say you’re on for next week?” Moose asked, his mind already back on football. 

I let my attention wander as they talked, taking in the massive influx of sensation around me—the room was packed, fuller than the last party I’d been at, and it was hotter too.  Just standing there, I was starting to sweat through my thin tank top.  The music was loud, pounding through the house so loudly that the windows were rattling.  I could feel it in my stomach—my entire body was thrumming, and I wasn’t sure if it was the music or the alcohol.

I snapped back into the conversation when I heard my name. “What about me?”

Moose rolled his eyes. “I thought that was your first drink, Lydia.  Don’t tell me we’re losing you already.”

“It is, Moose, and I wouldn’t say you’re losing me so much as boring me,” I replied, taking another sip of my drink to cover my smirk. “For real, though, why’d you say my name?”

Moose smiled fondly, shaking his head. “Just wondering if you’re coming to the game next week.”

“Depends.” I nudged Reggie slightly. “This guy said he didn’t want me there this week, but I’ll absolutely go if he invites me.”

It was Reggie’s turn to roll his eyes. “Babe, I sat on the bench handing guys their water bottles the entire damn time.  I didn’t even suit up.  It wouldn’t have been any fun to watch.”

“You’re no fun to watch even when you do play, Mantle,” Moose teased, punching him in the shoulder. “Should’ve seen me out there, Lyds.  I was _on fire_ tonight.”

I laughed, but before I could come up with a response, I was cut off by a voice that instantly filled me with irritation.  I didn’t even bother to turn around, and Reggie’s tense grip on my waist tightened.

“Would you look who it is! Reggie and Lydia,” Chuck bellowed, his smile wide as he sauntered over.  Based on his enunciation, it didn’t even seem like he was all that drunk yet.

“Hey, Chuck.” Moose greeted him with a quick nod.

“Moooooooooose,” he drawled with a laugh. “Damn, guys, y’all look like you need another round.”

Nancy followed close behind Chuck, an amused expression on her face that I knew all too well.  I couldn’t say I saw the appeal in Chuck, though.  Whereas Reggie was at least charming when he was being dumb, Chuck was usually just a jerk.  He did follow through on another round of drinks, though, somehow procuring them out of what seemed like thin air and refilling all of our cups. 

This drink was stronger than the first, and it burned its way down my throat.  I could feel the alcohol easing its way through me, my nerves fading slightly as I leaned into Reggie.

“So, Lydia, what do you think?” Chuck asked, fixing his startlingly perceptive brown eyes on me. “How’s the first party?”

Taking a big sip of my drink, I forced myself to slow down and not say something rude. “I’ve been to parties before Chuck— _your_ parties, even.”

“Damn girl,” he laughed. “Not so sweet after all, are we?”

Shrugging, I let my lips curve into a small smirk. “Crazy that you might not know me as well as you think from a whole two conversations, isn’t it, Chuck?”

Moose barked out a laugh, and Reggie laughed into my hair, covering it with a kiss.

Chuck wasn’t fazed, laughing along with them. “Maybe you’re not so bad after all, Boyd.” He flashed us a grin, wrapping his arm around Nancy’s waist as his hand creept toward her butt. “Have a good time tonight, y’all, and be sure to let me know if you need to use a bedroom.”  With a wink, he and Nancy were off, slipping through the crowd and onto the dancefloor.

Reggie wrapped his other arm around me, pulling me tight against him. “So,” he murmured, his voice so low I almost couldn’t hear it over the music. “Any chance I can get you to join me on the dancefloor?”

Standing on my tiptoes, I kissed him lightly, tasting the beer on his lips. “I don’t know if I’m drunk enough for that yet, Reg.  I’m not exactly a good dancer, you know.”

“None of us are,” he replied, tucking my hair behind my ear to press soft kisses into my cheek. “It’s not really dancing through, so much as—”

I cut him off with a kiss. “I know what it is, Reggie, and I’m still not drunk enough.”

“Well then, looks like you need another drink.”

* * *

It wasn’t long before Reggie did get me on the dancefloor, my anxiety fading with each passing drink.  As the night wore on, I lost track of time.  One song blended into the next, the drinks getting stronger and the music getting louder.  Time blurred as we danced, from grinding against Reggie to going hard with Josie and Nancy to every single Taylor Swift song.  For a while, we were in a vacuum, just a bunch of kids getting drunk and having some fun before school started.  There was no stress, and before long, I even forgot that I had been nervous to come, that I had been worried Reggie’s friends wouldn’t like me.  Instead, they were just fine, more than fine, really, and even Chuck was starting to grow on me.

I had no idea what time it was when Reggie pulled me off to the side, his grip on my waist tight as he steered me through the drunken crowd.

“How’re you feeling, babe?” His voice was fuzzy, almost distant, and all I could do was giggle and press myself into him.

“So good, Reggie.” My words ran together, my tongue weighing a million pounds. “Know what’ll make it even better, though?”

A concerned look flashed across his face, and I felt him start walking me toward the door of the massive house.  There were still bodies everywhere, but less of them were upright now.  People were slumped on every surface, some sleeping, some hooking up.  Seeing them reminded me what I wanted, and I jerked to a stop, grabbing Reggie’s wrist.

“Reggie,” I said, lowering my voice slightly. “I don’t want to go home, yet.”

“Too bad, Lyds,” he said, his voice firm as he got me walking again. “It’s definitely time to get out of here.”

“But Reggie,” I whined, trying to pull myself closer to him. “Know what we should do tonight?”

When he didn’t answer, I kept going, my face lit up in a dopey smile. “I’m sick of waiting, Reg.  Let’s do it, tonight, here in the pool house or something.”

“ _Do it?”_ His eyes narrowed in what could have been either anger, confusion, or concern—everything was too blurry for me to tell. “Lydia, I’m not going to do anything with you tonight except get you in bed.”

“Bed!  Exactly!” I slurred. “I want to sleep with you!”

We were out in the yard now, Reggie half-carrying me into the backseat of someone’s car.  I couldn’t tell whose it was, only that Reggie was buckling me in as he sat down next to me.  Futilely, I tried to mutter out a complaint, but before I could remember what I was upset about, I was sleeping.

* * *

Reggie woke up to the sound of running water, and he immediately flew out of bed and to the bathroom, knocking hard on the door. “Lydia, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Her voice was low and scratchy, and he could practically see her irritated expression through the door. “Relax.”

His shoulders relaxed as he let out a low sigh.  After the night he’d had, he didn’t like the thought of her being alone, maybe too tired or sick to realize that she fell, that she hadn’t turned the water off.  Slowly, he walked back to the bed, flopping face-first on the mattress.  It wasn’t even comfortable, but he was already starting to drift off when the door behind him creaked open.

He rolled over to see Lydia.  Her hair was pulled back in a much more orderly bun than the one he’d attempted the night before, and her eyes were rimmed with dark circles.  She looked pale, even smaller than usual in his big clothes.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, already pretty sure of the answer.

“Like shit,” she replied, slumping onto the bed and curling into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Reg.  I was a fucking mess last night, and—” She cut off, swallowing hard and squeezing her eyes shut. “Fuck, I’m just so sorry.”

“Hey, relax,” he murmured, squeezing her tighter when he realized she was shaking slightly. “It’s fine, I just—” He cut off. “I guess we won’t do parties anymore.”

She pulled back, blinking a few times to get a good look at him.  Her eyes had narrowed with confusion. “What?”

“Parties—we won’t go anymore.  It’s not a big deal, Lyds, I—”

She pulled back further, sitting up and rubbing her fingertips against her temples. “Why wouldn’t we go to parties anymore?”

“Because, well—” He sat up, gesturing to her.  _Wasn’t it obvious?_

“Because I was drunk?  Because for the first time in _months_ , I drank a little too much?” Her voice was coming back now, leveled out by anger. “I was nervous, Reggie—it was my first time going out with you and hanging out with all your friends.  It’s not like I go out and get trashed every weekend.”

“I just—” He cut off, biting back harsher words. “I’ve never seen that side of you, okay?”

She scoffed, all signs of her hangover fading entirely as her anger took over. “That side of me?  It’s not like I’m Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Reggie.  I got drunk.  People do that all the time.”

“Well yeah, but I’ve never seen it before,” he snapped back, finally letting his emotions come flooding out. “So no, I haven’t seen that side of you, and I’m not sure I like it.”

She rolled her eyes, getting off the bed to pace across the room. “And what’s the problem with that side of me?  Was I too messy to take care of?  Because that’s fair—that was shitty of me to get so drunk and leave you to take care of me.” She didn’t stop long enough to let him answer. “I don’t think that’s it, though.  I think it’s that _you_ don’t like that _I_ might not be the perfect little good girl you like to think.”

“Lydia, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” he replied, getting off the bed to face her. “I know you’re not perfect, alright? That’s not the issue here.”

“Then what is the issue, Reggie?” Her green eyes hit him with an intensity he’d only seen focused on one other person. “Please, explain to me what the issue is.”

“I—uh—” he stammered, searching for the words to describe just what was causing the sinking pit in his stomach.  _What is it?_   Her being drunk?  The suggestion to sleep with him?  Chuck being Chuck?  What?  His mind spun, and his head started to pound.  He had to say _something_ before she assumed that absolute worst. “I just didn’t like it, okay?”

“No.” Her voice faded into a near-whisper, and water filled her wide eyes. “Not okay.” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard, choking back a sob. “I guess I was right—you only like me when I’m your secret summer fling—me hanging out with your friends is too much, too serious for you.”

“Lydia, that’s not it.” He reached for her, but she stepped out of his grasp, quickly throwing off his clothes and putting on her own from the night before. “Lydia, please, I just—” The emotions from the night before were flooding through him, the pain, the fear, the worry.  He did want her to get along with his friends.  He did want her to have fun.  So why was he so upset?  Why was everything going so wrong? “Lydia, please, can we just talk about this?”

“I’m trying to, Reggie.” Tears were leaking from her eyes now, and she wiped them roughly with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “But you just keep saying you don’t know.  What am I supposed to think?  I got drunk, and I ruined everything.  You can’t even look at me.”

He realized he was staring at her shoulder, and he forced himself to look at her eyes, to see the tears running down her face.  The tears he had caused. “Lydia, I just—it was a lot, okay?  I don’t— _fuck_ , I _don’t_ know why it bothered me so much, but please—don’t go.”

“Guess I’m right, then.  You like me when I’m sweet, kind of sad, friendless, broken Lydia, the girl you can take care of and make feel better.  As soon as I’m my own person, though, someone who isn’t the perfect, demure girl you met in June, it’s too much for you.” She bit back another sob, her shoulders heaving with the effort. “Well, that fucking sucks, Reggie.  It really fucking sucks, and I wish I was surprised.”

She grabbed her purse from the nightstand, tossing it over her shoulder.  Then, she started for the door, jerking to a stop when she noticed Vader sitting in his bed, shaking as he looked up at her with his big brown eyes.  A sob escaped her throat, and she threw open the door.

“Lydia, please, wait!” Reggie called, staring after her.  His feet moved on their own accord, and he realized that he was blinking back tears of his own. “Please, Lydia!”

She was already down the stairs, racing out to her car, ignoring his pleas.  The front door slammed behind her, and Reggie crumpled, his knees buckling when he heard her car start.  Somehow, he made his way back to his room, his mind in a fog.  He didn’t make it to the bed, though, his legs giving out just before he reached it.  Everything snapped as he slumped to the ground, leaning back on the bed as a sob wracked through his body.

_I wish I was surprised._

_I wish I was surprised._

_I wish I was surprised._

Her words were cycling through his head, sending searing pain through his skull into his stomach.  She had been expecting all along for him to fuck it up, for everything to go wrong.  She had known deep down that he wasn’t ready, that he didn’t deserve her.

Vader walked over cautiously, climbing onto Reggie’s lap and licking his hand gently.  Reggie petted him with shaky hands, his entire body heaving.  He felt sick, sicker than the worst hangover of his life.  Slowly, his thoughts stopped spinning out of control, twisting and turning around what he didn’t want to admit, not even to himself.  

In some ways, she was right, and Josie had been kind of right, too.  He _was_ scared, scared that maybe she wasn’t just holding him together.  Maybe, he was holding her together, too.  Maybe, she really did love him as much as he loved her.  Maybe she really was that desperate to fit in, to be a part of his life.  Maybe the whole thing wasn’t just a web of pretty lies, after all.  Maybe they wouldn’t just be a summer thing.  Maybe she wouldn’t realize how bad he was for her.  Maybe they would have a chance.

That was all gone now, though, because he’d gone and proved himself right.  Even if it was all real and she really could love him that much, he’d just pushed her away.  He’d just proved to her that he wasn’t good enough, that he couldn’t be the boyfriend she deserved.  He’d just ruined everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, y'all. Truly, I am. I told you it was going to get angsty eventually, and here we are. Stick with me, though, because it won't be angsty forever!
> 
> Fun fact: The party/fight scene was the first scene I ever thought of for Pretty Lies while listening to the song Idfc by blackbear (which then inspired the title), so it's cool to finally have this chapter done.
> 
> If you're enjoying the fic, please let me know! Your comments truly do mean the world to me, and I love and appreciate every one of you!


	18. Chapter 18

Sixteen days.  Two weeks and two days.  Fifteen sleepless nights.  Two shitty Sundays.  Three hundred and eighty-four hours.  No matter how I measured it, it made me want to crawl back in bed and never come out.  It had been sixteen days since I’d stormed out of Reggie’s house, ten days since I’d stopped listening to his voicemails on repeat, five days since I’d stopped opening his texts, and two days since he’d sent any texts at all.

It was fucking pathetic, the way I was ignoring him.  I couldn’t bring myself to do it, though, because if I let him try to explain, I’d forgive him.  If I so much as saw him, touched him, I’d never be able to hold my ground.

I just had to keep reminding myself that it was inevitable, that the whole thing was just a summer fling—the Quarterback and the Pastor’s daughter, the classic bad boy meets good girl cliché that doesn’t actually work in real life.  All we actually had in common was Midge’s death, and as soon as that wasn’t the center of our relationship, we had no ground to stand on.    

“Lydia, it’s time to get going!” Mom shouted, her voice echoing up the stairs. “If you don’t leave now, you’re going to be late!”

Late.  As if I could bring myself to care about being late to school.  It didn’t even matter if it was the first day.  Hooray, junior year.  Halfway to graduation.  I looked down at my outfit, amazed how put together I’d managed to look in the deep green sundress and denim jacket.  I had to, though.  If I showed up looking as bad as I felt, everyone would be talking about it.

As if they weren’t already.

According to Moose, the news spread fast.  Within hours of me storming out of Reggie’s, everyone seemed to know that’d we’d broken up.

I didn’t even know that we’d broken up.  Neither of us had said it outright, but when Moose asked me if we did, I found myself saying yes.  Really, how could we ever go back after that?  All it took was five minutes of shouting at each other like that to prove that we were all wrong for each other, that I was too damaged to be in a relationship, after all.

“Lydia, _now!_ ” Mom shouted, her voice taking on that tone that told me she’s be banging on my door soon.

I took a deep breath, staring myself down in the mirror. “You can do this, Lydia,” I whispered, fingering the delicate silver cross bracelet on my wrist.  It had been a gift from Midge at my Confirmation back in eighth grade.  I hadn’t put it on since the funeral, too afraid that it would get lost or damaged.  Today, though, I needed her with me if I was going to have any chance of making it through the day.

Grabbing my backpack, I jogged down the stairs, trying to make it out the door without talking to my mom.

“Woah, woah, woah, young lady,” she said, throwing her arm across the door.  Like me, she was wearing a cute dress—her own go-to first day of school outfit as a teacher at Riverdale Elementary. “Where’s the fire?”

I gave her a hard look. “You said it yourself, Mom.  I’m going to be late.”

She sighed, letting her arm drop from the door as she fixed her soft gaze on me.  “How’re you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Not great.” My voice came out smaller and shakier than I’d expected.

“It’ll be your first time seeing him, won’t it?”

“Mhm.” I swallowed hard. “It will.”

The corners of her mouth dipped into a frown, and she pulled me into a tight hug.  Lavender and mint.  The same way she’d always smelt as long as I could remember. “I won’t lie to you and say today won’t be hard, sweetie, but know that your father and I love you, and we’re here for you.  I’ll be home right after school, but if you need me to, I can stop and pick up a gallon of cookie dough ice cream.”

I laughed into her shoulder. “Just plan on getting it, Mom.  I’ll probably already be under a pile of blankets trying to trap Howard into letting me love him by then.”

“Will do, Lydia.” She pulled back slightly, kissing me on the forehead. “Text anytime, okay?”

Smirking, I looked up at her. “I thought you weren’t allowed to have your phone out in front of students?”

“They’ve five—it’s easy to hide it from them.” She smiled softly. “Now, get to school, okay?”

“You got it, Mom.” I took a deep breath and headed out the door, exhaling deeply when the warm breeze hit my face.  Maybe I’d be able to do this after all. 

* * *

As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, Moose was there, tossing his arm around me and mussing my hair. “Boyd!  Looking good, today!”

I rolled my eyes and slipped out of his grasp.  A day hadn’t gone by that Moose didn’t show up at my house, ice cream, movies, or some silly new board game in hand.  He had quickly become a pro at cheering me up, or distracting me at the very least.

“Thanks, Moose,” I muttered, fixing my hair. “How long have you been waiting for me here?”

“Oh, only ten minutes or so.  I had to make sure you didn’t have to walk into school alone.”

“What about—” I cut off, the name sticking in my throat.

“You need me more than him today, Lyds, so don’t even think about it, okay?”

“Okay.”

He dropped his arm from my shoulder as we walked up the stairs into the school.  Around us, everyone was talking, laughing, comparing summer tans and catching up with old friends.  It made my heart hurt—no one would be catching up with me.  No one ever did, not when the only person who seemed to care was Midge.  Now, the only person who cared was Moose, and he definitely didn’t need to ask how my summer had been.

Mercifully, I got there late enough to head straight to homeroom, splitting up with Moose and immediately feeling his absence.  My mind faded in and out as we listened to announcements, received our schedules, and heard all about the joys and pains of junior year, SATs, and college prep. 

As if I gave a damn about any of it. 

My mind was hazy as I walked to Trigonometry.  It was eerie being back, watching as everyone act like nothing had changed, like one of our classmates hadn’t been brutally murdered in the auditorium just months before.  At least there didn’t seem to be any extra attention on me, either for that or for what had gone down with Reggie.

A glance at the board told me that my assigned seat was in the front left corner, perks of coming first alphabetically.  With a steadying breath, I looked back up at the board to see who else was in the class.  I didn’t have to look long, though, because all of a sudden, he was walking in, all smiles and loud laughter as he and Chuck came barreling into the room together.  When he saw me, he froze, almost tripping over his feet when Chuck slid past him.

Chuck shoved him, just about to make a joke when he saw me, too.  His face softened, and then he urged Reggie forward toward his seat before plopping down in his own next to me. 

My heart was racing as Chuck glanced toward me, an unreadable look on his face.  After a moment, he ventured a greeting.

“Hey, Lydia.”

“Hey, Chuck.” I kept my eyes fixed on the board, determined not to look at him and his sympathetic brown eyes.

He took the cue, pulling out a notebook and pencil to get to work doodling.

I barely blinked as I stared at the board, determined not to turn so much as an inch in case I saw him.  His image was burned into my mind, though—his shiny black hair, the dazed look in his eyes, the bright yellow and blue of his letterman jacket.  His smile.  He had been smiling, laughing, joking around with Chuck like nothing had ever happened between us.

I guess to him, nothing had.  I had been a summer fling—quick, easy, no strings attached.  Now, we were back at school, and everything would go back to normal.  For him, at least.  Without Midge, I’d never be normal again.

* * *

The moment class ended, I raced out the door, uncaring about how weird or panicked I might have looked.  My head was pounding, and my back hurt a little from how tense I’d been.  I darted into the nearest bathroom, taking the farthest stall and locking it behind me.  With a shudder, I fell onto the toilet, a sob escaping my throat.  If there hadn’t been attention on me before, there would be now.  I could barely make it through a single class without losing it.

The bathroom emptied quickly, the bell rang, and then there was a knock on the door. “Hey, Lydia, want to open up?”

“No,” I choked out, recognizing the voice and crying harder. “I don’t.”

“Do it anyways?” she asked.

I yanked the lock open, and she pushed open the door. “Hey, Josie.”

“Hey, girl.” She crouched down in front of the toilet, taking my hands in hers. “Heard you had trig with Reggie this morning.”

“Yeah,” I gasped, grabbing a wad of toilet paper to mop off my face. “And he just looked so damn happy, like nothing ever happened.”

“That’s what he does, Lydia,” she said softly, her warm eyes holding on mine. “C’mon, girl, you know him.  Look at the whole thing with his Dad—” She cut off. “Shit, did you know about that?”

“Yeah,” I gulped, nodding. “I did.”

“Okay, good,” she said more firmly. “Then you know how good he is at hiding things—his dad’s been hitting him his whole life, and I bet you never noticed a damn thing, did you?”

I shook my head.

“Exactly.  He hides things—it’s what he does.” She sighed. “Shit, Lydia, the boy’s a mess.  I don’t know what Moose has been telling you, but—”

“Nothing.” I shook my head, finally drying my eyes completely. “Moose hasn’t told me anything.”

“Well damn, so you don’t know what’s been going on then.”

I looked up at her, blinking hard to clear my eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Football practice—he’s been skipping.  He hasn’t told me what he’s been doing, but based on what I’ve seen, I’m pretty sure it’s a combination of drinking, playing video games, and getting the shit kicked out of him by his dad.”

My gut ached, and it felt like my stomach turned into lead. “Wait, what?”

“He’s been doing terrible, Lydia.  Like, really terrible, and I’m not going to pretend to know a damn thing about your relationship, but I’ve known Reggie forever, and I’ve never seen him like this.  I don’t know what he said or did, but he loves you.  So, fuck, I don’t know if it’s too late for that, but I don’t like seeing either of you like this.” She sighed, glancing down at her phone to check the time. “And now, I really need to get to class, but—” She handed me her phone. “Give me your number, and let me know if you need someone to talk to.”

Slowly, I typed out the numbers. “But, Josie, you’re Reggie’s friend.”

She scoffed. “And who the hell says I can’t be yours, too?” She smirked as she rose to her feet. “You’re not bad, Boyd, seriously.”

I smiled slightly. “Thanks, Josie.  Really, thank you so much.”

“Anytime.”

* * *

 

Reggie scanned the lunchroom, searching the crowd and letting out a low sigh when he couldn’t find her.

“She’s not here, dude,” Moose said, walking up next to him and shoving him toward an open table. “So, you may as well stop looking.”

“Not here?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing. “She was in trig this morning.”

“Yeah, and she’s been absent since.” Moose sat down, immediately opening his lunch bag to start on his sandwich. “Texted me and said she was cutting class.”

His heart pounded in his chest.  Lydia cutting class?  That was impossible, especially on the first day of school.  He swallowed hard, setting his tray down on the table as he sat. “Are you sure?”

“Yup,” Moose replied, giving Reggie a firm look. “She said she didn’t think she could make it through the day, and I can’t say I blame her.”

“Dude, you know I’m fucking dying right now, too, right?”

“Yeah, man, I know.” Moose let out a long breath. “Look, Reg, you know I love you and all, but damn, you’ve got to realize that you have it easier than her today.  _Fuck_ , man, not only did you guys break up, she’s never had to go to school without Midge before.  When she walked in here this morning, all she had was me.  So, yeah, it had to be shitty for you, too, but when you left class, you had Chuck, and Archie, and everyone.  She didn’t have anyone, so she bailed.”

Reggie’s jaw clenched, and he had to fight to keep a straight face.  He hadn’t been expecting to see her in class right away like that, and he really hadn’t expected for her to look so damn good.  Not that she should look bad or something, but she looked so fucking perfect in that green dress, just a few shades darker than her eyes.  She looked perfectly put together, too, her hair pulled neatly back and her makeup light.

Her face had changed when she saw him, though, her steady poker face shifting into a pained expression that had been burned in his mind for the past two weeks.  And then she didn’t look back once during the hour—he couldn’t take his fucking eyes off her—and she didn’t so much as glance at him.

Somehow, he managed to look back up at Moose. “What do I do, man?”

Moose shrugged, popping a cheeto in his mouth. “Beats me.”

Reggie gave him a hard look. “Oh, so you see her every damn day, and you have no idea what I need to do to make this right?”

“Make this right?” he asked skeptically. “What makes you think I’m the expert in your relationship?  Or lack-of, I guess?”

Reggie’s fists clenched on the table, and it took all the self-control he had not to send one flying into Moose’s face. “You’re the one who’s been talking to her for the past two weeks.”

“Okay, sure, but you’re still the one who should be talking to Lydia about this, not me.”

“And how the hell do you propose I do that?” Reggie snapped. “She’s been ignoring my calls, texts, everything.”

“Show up, man.”  Moose’s voice was soft. “Just show up.  Be there, and tell her how you feel, and I have a feeling it’s go better than you think.”

“Really?” He asked, a now-unfamiliar note of optimism creeping into his voice.

“Really.”

* * *

I didn’t pay much attention to where my feet were carrying me, not until I heard the sound of rushing water.  Sweetwater River.  Somehow, I always ended up back at Sweetwater River.  My eyes drift shut for a beat, and I focused on everything else—the warm breeze against my skin, the birds chirping in the trees, fragrant wildflowers.  I pulled my eyes open.  The bridge.

It had been five months since I’d been there last.  Then, the ice was just starting to melt, and we could still see our breath in the chilly March air.  Now, there wasn’t even a trace of winter.  There was, however, someone sitting exactly where Moose and I had.  He had dark hair and was wearing a flannel shirt.  There was a pile of rocks sitting next to him, and he was tossing them lazily into the water.  Suddenly, it clicked, and I recognized who it was.

My feet acted of their own accord, pulling me onto the bridge despite the large part of me screaming to turn back, to go anywhere else.  Then, he looked up, and running was no longer an option.

“Lydia?” His brown eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Hey, Fangs.” I tugged my jacket tighter around myself, the denim soft beneath my fingertips. “Mind if I join you?”

He smirked, his eyes lighting up. “What?  You weren’t feeling school today, either?”

Rolling my eyes, I took it as a yes and sat down next to him. “Nope,” I said shortly, picking up one of the rocks and running my thumb over it. “How long did you make it?”

“I didn’t get through the door,” he replied. “It was just too weird, everyone being there, going about life like nothing had changed.  Like, fuck, I spent months being tried for a murder I didn’t commit, got shot, and nearly lost everything.  And now they want me to care about the fucking SAT’s?  No thanks.”

My lips curved into a smile, and my grip on the smooth stone tightened. “Yeah, I get that.  My best friend’s dead, and I still have to sit in trig like I give a damn.”

He flung another rock into the water, watching as it hit the water with a splash. “Kind of weird, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“That this is the first time we’re actually meeting.” He shrugged. “I suppose we wouldn’t though, not with you dating—” He cut off. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut. “Don’t be—it was just a summer thing.”

He bit his lip, tossing another rock in the water and forcing himself to look at me.  There was a dark, distant look behind his eyes, and I could tell there was something else he wanted to talk about.  After a heavy moment of silence, he finally said something. “Did he ever talk about me?”

Not sure how to answer right away, I took a slow breath. “A little.  Coming after you like that is his biggest regret.”

His shoulders rose and fell, and his next words came out quietly. “Hooking up with Midge is mine.”

“Because of all the shit that went down because of it?”

“Because she was cheating on Moose.”  He gripped the back of his neck hard, staring down at the water.  His gaze was on something far away, much farther that I would ever be able to see. “She was cheating on Moose, and I went along with it because it was easy and fun, and she made me feel like I just might have a place at Riverdale High.”

My breath caught, and I had to force myself to breathe, to focus on the sound of the water rushing below me. “She was good at that—she had a way of making people feel at home.”

“She really did.” He paused, and for a moment, we were just silent.  The wind was picking up, and I shivered slightly. Fangs glanced at me, and he rested his hand over mine. “She talked about you.  Like, a lot.”

I bit back tears. “I really fucking miss her.”

“I’m sorry.  I can’t imagine how hard this whole thing must be.  Between being back at school and the whole thing with—shit, I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to talk about that.”

A tearful laugh escaped my throat. “ _I_ don’t want to?  _You’re_ the one he tried to shoot.”

“Well, sure, but—” He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I forgave him for that a long time ago.”

I swallowed hard, blinking back stinging tears. “How?”

“I dunno—it was during the trial.  His trial, that is.  Seeing his testimony, hearing his apology—it was clear he meant it.  And my lawyer told me that if I did publicly forgive him like that, it would help with sentencing, that he might not have to go to jail.”

“But you could have sent him to jail,” I said, my voice finally leveling out. “You could have, and no one would have blamed you.  He tried to shoot you, Fangs, and you didn’t want him put away?”

“For one mistake?” He shook his head, throwing the last rock from his pile into the river. “Nah.  I fucked up and slept with Midge, and for all I know, that’s why the Black Hood killed her.  If I don’t deserve to go to jail for that, he sure as hell didn’t deserve to go to jail for his reaction.”

Again, there was a long pause, neither of us really sure of what to say.  There weren’t enough words in the world to explain how either of us were feeling.  Then, he looked back up at me.

“He’s really why you skipped school today, isn’t he?  Not just the Midge thing?”

“Yeah, no, it wasn’t just the Midge thing.”  I sighed, turning over the smooth rock in my hand as I contemplated throwing it into the water. “Breakups fucking suck.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, they do.  Want some entirely unsolicited advice from someone who’s basically a complete stranger?”

I nodded, deciding not to mention that while he may be a stranger, what we shared, what we’d lived through, brought us closer than any friendship ever could. “Sure.”

“If it matters, fight for it.” He gave me a steady look. “Through this whole damn thing, my friends were there with me—they were the only ones keeping me sane.  They were the only ones that stuck with me no matter what people were saying or doing.  So, I fought for them.  When everything went so fucking wrong, I fought to keep them close, even when people said things they shouldn’t have or acted in ways they didn’t mean.” He let out a shaky breath. “And if Reggie’s doing even a fraction of that for you, you should keep him close.  Being lonely fucking sucks.”

His words felt like a punch in the gut.  Being lonely did fucking suck, and I hated how used to it I was getting. “For a complete stranger, you sure seem to have some good advice.”

He shrugged. “What can I say?  I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about things lately.”

“Me too.” I loosened, my grip on the rock, taking one last look at its smooth, grey surface before throwing it into the water below.  It hit with a splash, sinking to the bottom without so much as a ripple on the rushing surface. “Me too.”

* * *

Reggie stared at the clock as the seconds ticked by, counting down toward the end of eighth period.  Moose’s words were ringing in his head: _Just show up_.  He had already been skipping close to every other football practice, so another wouldn’t hurt.  Anyways, he _had_ to talk to Lydia.  He couldn’t keep going on like this.  The second the bell rang, he shot out of his seat, taking off toward the door.  He escaped the school in a whirlwind, nearly sprinting past the locker room and out toward the parking lot.  

He didn’t have time to think about what Coach Clayton would do, how he would call his dad, like any good coach would, and tell him he’d cut again.  Then, his dad would come at him again.  It was exhausting.  Every since that night he’d told Lydia about his dad, he had laid off a little, had stuck to calling him names and telling him what a failure he was instead of using his fists. 

Reggie wasn’t sure which was worse.

When he got to the church, there were more cars there than he was used to, the summer slump officially over.  He pulled into a spot and slipped inside, praying that Pastor Boyd wouldn’t be around to see him.  That was absolutely not a conversation he was in the mood to have.  When he heard music coming from the sanctuary, he followed the sound, cracking open the door before barging in.

What he saw made his heart drop.  Lydia.  And Moose.  Sitting together on the piano bench.  They were laughing, his arm around her as her fingers danced across the keyboard.  She was singing something he didn’t recognize, something that didn’t sound like church music.  Moose was watching her closely, his warm, dark fixed on her and his lips curved into an easy smile.

They were happy together.  It was _easy_ for them to be happy together, so much easier than it ever was with him.  He should have seen it sooner.  Of course, they made more sense—after everything they’d been through, they belonged together.  Reggie glanced up at the statue at the front of the sanctuary.  Today, Jesus was bathed in a bright, colorful light, the sun shining through the stained glass like a rainbow.  Maybe it was a sign.  He’d never be good enough, and he knew it.

Silently, he let the heavy sanctuary door fell shut, squeezing his eyes closed as he sucked in a breath.  He needed to get out of there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your patience in getting this chapter posted! It's been a bit of a crazy week, but I should be a back on schedule now.
> 
> Stay tuned for the end of the angst. I promise it's coming soon!


	19. Chapter 19

Nibbling on a fry, I was barely paying attention to the conversation happening around me.  Instead, I had fixated on the chipped table below my fingertips, picking at the ancient shellac and watching as it came off in flakes. 

“Lydia,” Nancy intoned, her voice sing-songy, “earth to Lydia.”

When I didn’t respond right away, Moose flicked a fry at me. “Hey, Lyds!”

I rolled my eyes and looked up with an amused smirk. “Yes, Moose?”

Nancy chuckled, setting down her milkshake to look at me. “We were talking about Homecoming and how you absolutely need to go.”

“Absolutely not, you guys.” I shook my head, flicking my gaze between the two of them. “There’s absolutely no way I’m going to Homecoming.”

“C’mon, Lydia, it’ll be fun,” Nancy argued, reaching across the table to take my hand in hers. “It’s been a month, and you’ve barely left your house for anything but school.  Isn’t it time to start having fun again?”

A month.  As if I needed the reminder.  It had been a month, and Reggie and I hadn’t so much as spoken to each other.  I thought about going over to his place close to a thousand times, but after a while, it just got easier not to.  The pain started to feel normal, comfortable, living in that same part of my mind where Midge did, tucked away with all the other painful reminders of what could have been.

Moose’s arm was around me before I even realized I had zoned out.  I had been doing that a lot lately, losing myself in my own head.  Moose always seemed to be there to bring me back, though, with his arm around my waist or his fingers laced tightly with mine.  I had no idea what we were, and neither of us had talked about it, but it’d quickly become the new normal again, him being my rock when it felt like I was lost at sea.

“So, what do you say, Lyds,” he asked, his voice low. “Can I convince you to go?”

I sighed, relaxing into him and imagining what it might be like, if I’d be able to handle seeing Reggie there, probably with another girl. “I don’t know, Moose.” I sat up a little straighter, taking a sip of my milkshake. “Do you really want to go?”

He shrugged. “I want _you_ to have some fun.”

Pressing my lips into a hard line, I looked up at Nancy, who was still grinning. “And do you think it’ll be fun?”

She scoffed. “Of course, I do, girl.  You, me, Josie—it’ll be great.”

“Um, excuse me,” Moose laughed. “What am I here, chopped liver?”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean, yeah, you’ll be there, too, but—” She cut off, her phone ringing. “Shoot, I need to take this.  See you guys tomorrow?”

“See you, tomorrow,” I said.

“And you’ll have decided by then if you’re going?” she asked, giving me a pointed look.

“I promise.”

With a grin, she took off, talking into her phone.  As soon as she was gone, Moose pulled back and looked at me. “You don’t have to go, you know.”

My lips curved into a soft smile. “But then you wouldn’t have a date.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, and then he grinned. “Oh, I’m your date?  I don’t seem to remember asking you, Boyd.”

I shrugged, smirking back. “Don’t think too much about it, Moose.  I just need an excuse to get a cute dress, and I really don’t think I’d be able to go alone.” I rested my hand on his, squeezing gently, and I recognized that my heart was racing a little. “So, what do you say, will you go with me?”

His brown eyes lit up, and for a moment, they were all I could see. “I’d like nothing more.” He took my hand in his, holding it tightly as he ran his thumb over the back of my hand.  His eyes never left mine, and my heart nearly exploded out of my chest.

* * *

 

As soon as Moose pushed open the front door of his house, a tiny blonde girl came flying out of nowhere to attach to his leg. “Moose, you’re home!” she shouted as he grabbed the doorframe to catch his balance.

“Sure am, Maddie,” he laughed, peeling her off of him so that he could walk the rest of the way into the house and pull the door shut behind him. “So, how was school today?”

“Really, really good,” she answered, grabbing his much-bigger hand and leading him promptly toward the kitchen. “Mrs. Boyd says that my writing is very neat!”

“That’s awesome, kiddo.” He ruffled her hair and dropped his backpack on the floor next to him.  Pulling up a chair at the kitchen table, he lifted her onto his lap.  With a wide smile, he picked up the piece of paper covered in neat rows of letters and held it out to her. “Is this yours?”

“Yes!”

He scanned it carefully, making soft noises of approval as she watched him read. “Well, I’d say Mrs. Boyd is right—your letters are very neat.” Then, he gave her a look, his eyebrows raised. “Now, for the real question, the _big_ question—do you know how to spell your name?”

“Of course, I do, Moose,” she sighed, rolling her eyes in a way that he knew she had picked up from her older sister.

The basement door opened, and their mom walked into the kitchen. “Hey, what did I say about rolling your eyes, Madeline?” she warned, crossing the room with a basket of laundry on her hip.  Her curly blonde hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she was still in her scrubs from work.  As always, she looked exhausted, but Moose knew better than to mention it—they all knew she was overworking herself, but she wouldn’t have it any other way if it meant her kids had everything they needed.

“Sorry, Mom,” Maddie replied, sliding off Moose’s lap. “Can I go play outside with Macie now?”

“’Course, you can.” She set the laundry basket down on the table, piling up Maddie’s schoolwork so she’d have space to fold laundry.  As she started folding, she looked up at Moose. “Hey, bud, any chance you help me get dinner started?”

“Sure.” He got up from the table. “Is dad going to be around tonight?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, flipping her loose hair off her face. “Either way, we’ll make enough so that there are leftovers when he gets home.”

“You’ve got it.” Moose stood up and opened the fridge to look around. “So, what are we making?”

“I was just thinking spaghetti and meatballs since we still have some meatballs frozen from last time.” The piles of clothes next to her grew at a rapid pace as she folded and sorted expertly.  She looked up at him with a smirk. “Think you can handle that, bud?”

He rolled his eyes, closing the fridge to rifle through the cabinets and pull out the pasta and sauce. “Very funny, Mom.”

“I know.” She grinned.  Her folding slowed, and she ventured a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. “So, Moose, I notice you didn’t come home right after football.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, setting the necessary pots on the stove and turning to give her an expectant look. “Because your words sounded like a _statement_ , but your tone sounded like a _question_.”

She chuckled and started stacking the folded clothes back in the laundry basket. “Just wondering who you were with—Lydia, maybe?”

“And there it is.  This again.”

She tossed her hands in the air. “I’m just saying—her and Reggie are officially broken up, right?  And I’ve always liked her—she’s such a nice girl, and you two get along so well.”

“They are broken up,” he replied, crossing his arms and meeting her grin with a hard look. “And she is a really nice girl, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to immediately try to get with my best friend’s ex.  It’s only been a month since they broke up.”

“But they were only together for a few months, right?” She matched his firm look with one of her own. “I mean, back at the beginning of the summer when you two were spending so much time together, he wasn’t even in the picture.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Moose conceded. “But still, Mom, it’s all pretty raw.”

She gave him a perceptive look—the look that made him swear she could read his mind. “Okay, but what do _you_ want Moose?  Because you deserve to be happy just as much as she does.”

“I don’t know what I want,” he replied, shaking his head.  He shrugged, avoiding eye contact and turning to check on the boiling pot of spaghetti. “I mean, I was with Midge for so long, and—shit, I guess I just forgot what it was like to be with someone who isn’t Midge.”

“That makes sense, bud, really.” She smiled softly, walking around the table and wrapping her around him.  Even though he was close than a foot taller than her now, the gesture made him feel like a little kid again, like one hug from mom could make all his problems go away.  She sighed heavily. “Coming out of a relationship like that is hard—you were together for years, years when you grew up a lot and learned a lot about yourself.  Then, she was taken away from you so horribly.” Her voice wavered a little with the memory. “You’re a whole different person now than when you started dating Midge.”

Moose swallowed hard, and it felt like his stomach turned into lead.  It was like all the secrets that he wanted so desperately to tell her were trapped there, stuck inside him like a brick. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

His mom’s voice was soft when she spoke again. “That’s not a bad thing, though, honey.  You’re growing up, and that means you’re not always going to want the same things you used to.”

“What if I don’t know what I want?”

“Then you’re just like every other sixteen-year-old on the planet, bud.” She nudged him, smiling brightly. “And that’s absolutely okay.  You know I love Lydia, but I would never push you to be in a relationship with her when you don’t want to be.”

He sighed, putting a lid on the pasta before pulling away from her to sit down at the table.  Unconsciously, he clenched his hands into tight fists, resting them on the cool wooden surface.  Normally, Moose wasn’t one for heart-to-hearts, at least not with his mom.  But at that moment, with dizzying images of Lydia and Midge swimming through his head, he needed to talk to someone. “Part of me does, though,” he started, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to say the words. “Part of me does want to be in a relationship with her.  Being with her is just so—it’s so easy.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You know—it’s easy.  She makes me happy, I make her happy, we work well together.  We have fun together.  We—” He cut off. “She was there for me when really no one else was.”

A sad look crossed her face before she reset her steady expression. “And that’s important, Moose, don’t get me wrong.  But, there’s more to love than having fun and working well together.”

“I never said I loved her, Mom.”

“But you do care about her.”

“Of course, I do!” he exclaimed, rising out of his seat and turning to face the stove again.  Anxiously, he stirred the pasta, doing everything he could not to look at his mom. “How could I not?  She’s—” He choked on the words, realizing that he had no idea how to describe who Lydia was to him.  A girl he liked?  His last connection to Midge?  The only person who knew how he felt?  His best friend?  All of that, really, and that’s not exactly something he could tell his mom. “She’s one of the only people I’ve got right now.”

“Hold on to her, then, in whatever way you need to.  If you think you’re going to be happier just being her friend, then just be her friend.  If you think you’re going to be happier dating her, then ask her out.  Either way, know that I’m here for you, okay, bud?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned back toward her. “Okay.  Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime, bud.” She stood up, picking up the basket of laundry and pushing her hair off her face. “I’m going to put these clothes away, and then we can finish up dinner, okay?”

“Sounds good.” Moose turned back to the stove.  Then, he jerked to a stop, biting back a groan.  There was something else he had to tell her. “Oh, and one more thing, Mom.”

“What’s that?”

“Lydia and I are going to Homecoming together.”

“What?” She nearly dropped the laundry, turning to gape at him. “Marmaduke Mason, why didn’t you lead with that?  We need to get you a suit, flowers—what color dress does she have?  Does she—"

“Mom, stop,” he laughed, lifting his hands. “We literally just talked about it today.  She doesn’t even have a dress yet, and it’s not like we’re a couple or something.”

“Oh really?” She gave him an amused look, cocking her eyebrow. “So, what is this then?”

“This is Homecoming.” Moose stood up, giving her a firm look before pulling plates out of the cabinet to start setting the table. “Between friends.”

She smiled amusedly, re-gripping the laundry basket and starting toward the stairs. “Whatever you say, Moose.  Just let me know when you know the color of the dress so we can get a corsage.”

“You got it, Mom,” he laughed. “And thank you.  Really.  Thank you.”

She paused, her lips curving into a soft smile. “Of course, Bud.  Love you.”

* * *

 

“One more time, Moose?” Maddie begged, snuggling into him and pulling her pink polka-dotted comforter tighter around herself. “Pretty, pretty please.”

Moose chuckled, closing the book and setting it on the bedside table. “I’ve already read it twice, Mads, and it’s a whole three minutes past your bedtime.” He kissed the top of her head. “You need to go to sleep so you’re not falling asleep in class tomorrow.”

She giggled and sighed dramatically, cuddling deeper into the pile of pillows and stuffed animals that covered her bed. “Fine.  See you in the morning?”

“Always, Mads.” He slipped off the bed, kissing her on the forehead as he pulled the blankets tight around her. “Sleep tight.”

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” she whispered back, her eyes already drifting shut. “G’night, Moose.”

“Goodnight, Maddie.” He flipped off the light, pulling the door shut behind him. “Love you.”  Quickly, he ducked his head in the other kids’ rooms, wishing them a good night.  Then, he hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time to get to the converted attic that served as his bedroom.

Once he got to his bedroom, Moose flipped on the lights and flopped facedown on the bed.  In an attempt to steady himself, he took a few deep breaths and rolled over, his eyes immediately being drawn to the half-completed painting resting on the easel.  

It had always been his secret hobby, painting, his dirty little secret that his dad had always disapproved of.  It had never worked, though—nothing that man could say or do would make Moose give up painting.  It was the one thing he could do that was purely his, that no one else had any say about.

The half-finished painting was supposed to be of Midge and Lydia, his take on a picture from their freshman year that Midge had always kept framed on her desk.  He couldn’t make himself finish it, though.  No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to paint Midge. 

Lydia had been easy—those bright green eyes and easy smile.  She was so easy to capture, the joy she brought him radiating through him and onto the canvas.  That half of the painting had only taken a few hours.  Midge was different, though, and he didn’t know why.  He had painted her what felt like a million times in his life, but not once since she’d died.  It felt wrong, somehow, bringing her to life on the canvas when every fucking day he was alive to paint was a reminder that she was still dead.

Moose sighed and let his eyes fall shut.  At this rate, he’d have to come up with a new birthday present for Lydia.  At one point, he considered painting Reggie on the other half of the canvas, but that wouldn’t work anymore.  Would it be too weird to paint himself?

“Fuck,” he muttered.  Lydia.  Him and Lydia.  Moose and Lydia.  People at school were already saying it, and now they were going to Homecoming together.  He had to admit it didn’t sound half bad.  He couldn’t do it, though, not knowing what it would do to Reggie.  Reggie hardly spoke to him as it is, preferring to lock himself in his basement with video games and beer. 

And then there was Kevin, the secret he hadn’t even told Lydia about.  The secret that could change everything, that could turn his world upside down with one simple kiss.  He had done everything he could to keep him a secret, but he knew that Lydia had to suspect something.  She was perceptive like that, and she was the only person other than Kevin and Midge who even knew he was bi.  If anyone could put it together, it would be her.

Letting out a low groan, Moose grabbed his pillow and held it over his head.  He was too tired for this shit, and sitting around thinking about it never seemed to help.  He never got any closer to answers, never managed to pinpoint what he wanted or what he was feeling.  No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t make sense of it all.

* * *

 

Reggie’s lungs burned as he chased the ball across the court.  The court.  He scoffed.  How fucking stupid was it that his dad had literally had a goddamn basketball court installed less than a week after Reggie’s first day of the Pre-K basketball team?  His grip tightened on the ball, and he ran back across the court to make a shot—a three-pointer.  He couldn’t bring himself to care, though.  He couldn’t bring himself to care about much these days, much less basketball.

Shoot, catch, rebound, dribble, repeat.  He ran until his muscles hurt, until the familiar burn took over everything else, until his mind was absolutely clear of everything other than how much he hurt.  Then, and only then, did he allow another thought to cross his mind.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled down to her number.

_Me: you home?_

_Josie: yeah, what’s up?_

He didn’t bother to answer.  Instead, he tossed the basketball back into the bin next to the court and jogged back to the house to shower.

* * *

 

It was less than twenty minutes before Reggie pulled up in front of Josie’s new house.  He had never been there before, not since the McCoy’s and Keller’s moved in together.  When he knocked on the door, he was almost nervous.  Luckily, it was Josie who answered, pulling open the door and stepping out onto the porch.  It was getting cold as the sun went down, and Reggie wondered why she didn’t invite him in right away.

Her face twisted in confusion. “Reggie, what the hell are you doing here?”

He tried to pull his lips into a smile, but it fell flat. “You know, just thought we could…” He trailed off—Josie knew him well enough to put it together.

Her eyebrows rose, and she shook her head. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me, Mantle.  Are you really trying to get with me right now?”

“Maybe?” The word sounding more like a question than an answer, and he immediately regretted it.

“You’re such an idiot.” Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “Clearly, you’re out of your mind.” Sighing she pulled open the door and gave him a look.  When he just stared back blankly, she gestured for him to come in.

“I thought—wasn’t that a no?”

“Yeah, it was, but you still need me right now, dude, so come in.”

Reggie didn’t argue as he ducked into the house.  No one else appeared to be home as she led him up the stairs to her bedroom.  Once the door was shut, she hopped onto the bed and gestured for him to sit on the desk chair.  He sat with a sigh and looked up at her.  Tonight was absolutely not going according to plan.

Josie gave him a piercing look, her brown eyes dark and focused. “What’s going on, Reg?”

He shrugged, running his hand through his hair and cutting his gaze away from her.  He couldn’t bring himself to look at the sympathy in her warm brown eyes, so he focused on the backpack sitting next to him instead.  It was purple, well-worn, and covered in colorful band pins. “Just needed some company.”

“ _Company?”_ She gave him a skeptical look.

“Look, I just—” He rose from the chair, pacing the length of the room as words started to spill from his lips. “I just don’t know what to do anymore, Jo.  It’s like I’ve got nothing without her—nothing makes any goddamn sense anymore.  I finally thought things were getting back to normal, that I’d be able to have a regular fucking life again.  Everything’s worse than ever, though.” His hands clenched into tight fists. “Not only was I an absolute asshole to the girl I love, I’m _this_ close to being kicked off the team, and when I do play, I play like absolute shit because I can’t focus on anything.  I’m not going to get a scholarship, my future is fucking gone, and my dad keeps fucking reminding me of that.”

“Reg, relax.” Josie has climbed off the bed, grabbing his forearms and forcing him to stand still. “Stop, please, Reg.  Just breathe, okay?  Breathe.”

He realized he was crying, and he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “She was all that was holding me together, Jo, and I didn’t realize it until it was too late.  I _love_ her.”

“I know.” Her voice was soft and steady, and her hand was cool on his arm.  She led him to the bed, sitting him down and forcing him to look at her. “I know, Reg, and there’s something you need to know.”

“What?” he snapped, the words coming out harsher than he intended.

She shrugged it off, taking his hands in hers and unraveling his tight fists. “Her and Moose are going to Homecoming together—I’m pretty sure it’s just as friends, but either way, you need to be able to keep your cool about it.”

Reggie’s vision went dark as rage seared through him.  He should’ve expected it—he had known for ages now that there was something more going on there, and this was the only confirmation he needed.  He nearly flew off the bed, but Josie’s firm grip kept him in place. “Keep my cool?  How the fuck am I supposed to keep my cool when my best friend is dating the only fucking person—” he cut off, his throat closing around the words. “I can’t do that, Josie.”

“Then stay home, Reggie,” she said firmly.  Then, she sighed, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before looking back up at him. “Or take this is a goddamn wake-up call.  It’s been over a month, and the two of you are still a mess.  I mean, we all know you’re one step away from utter self-annihilation, and she disappears more into herself every day.  I don’t know what it is that you guys had going on in that church basement all summer, but whatever it was, you were both much better off with each other in your lives.”

He was quiet for a moment, staring down at the way her little hands wrapped around his bigger one.  The gesture was familiar, so similar to what Lydia did when she could tell his anger was about to get the best of him, and it made his chest hurt. “Do you really think so?  It’s been a month, Jo—what if she doesn’t want me back?”

Her lips curved into a frown.  It sucked seeing him like this.  The unshakeable Reggie Mantle was never this emotional—at least, not until now.  “Then at least you tried.  You need to talk to her, Reg.  The two of you can’t live in this weird relationship limbo forever.  Either you’re in love enough to make it work or you’re not, but you owe it to yourself to find out for sure.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

Reggie nodded, the ache in his chest spreading through his body.  Every part of him hurt, and he just wanted the pain to go away.  He had to talk to Lydia—it was the only way.  He took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter posted! Midterms got to me this week, and I completely lost track of time. From here on out, the update should come weekly again.
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading! I can't believe how close to the end of this I am, and I am so grateful to all the amazing people who have been leaving comments along the way!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: underage drinking/alcohol abuse, drug use/drug abuse, mild panic attck

Moose’s arm was wrapped tightly around me as we posed for what felt like the millionth picture.  Both of our moms had gone all-out, clearly trying to distract us from the Reggie-sized cloud hanging over the evening.  Even my dad was making an effort, shaking Moose’s hand and making some dumb dad-like comments about taking care of his baby girl.

The whole thing made me sick.

“Think they’re done, yet?” Moose murmured, pulling me aside as our moms got lost in some conversation that was surely about how cute and grown-up we looked.

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile as I looked up at him. “Oh, not nearly.  We’re going to have to make a run for it.”

“Run for it?” He gave me a skeptical look, glancing down at my strappy black heels. “You can run in those things?”

“I can sure try.” I rested my hands on his shoulders, letting them drift down his chest as I fingered the lapels of his suit.  It was kind of weird seeing Moose dressed like that—Moose, who was almost always in jeans his letterman, regardless of the weather. “You look really great, by the way.”

“Not nearly as great as you,” he replied, not missing a beat.  His hands moved to my waist, resting lightly on the smooth, emerald-green material.  We were so close now, my hands on his chest, his hands on my waist.  In my heels, all it would take was a tiny little tip of the head for us to be kissing.

Behind us, my dad cleared his throat. “Don’t you kids need to be heading out now?”

I rolled my eyes—you could always count on Pastor Boyd to make sure no one ever got to have too much fun.  Reluctantly, I let go of Moose and walked back into the middle of the living room. “We sure do, Dad.”

“Alrighty, then, better get going.” He was still smiling, the crinkles around his green eyes genuine.  It couldn’t be more obvious that he liked Moose more than Reggie, and I almost couldn’t blame him.    

Swallowing hard, I tried to get rid of the lump in my throat and force myself to smile. “Will do, Dad.”

Next, Mom pulled me into a hug, enveloping me in the soft material of her oversized sweater.  For a moment, I just held the hug, letting my eyes squeeze shut as I breathed in her familiar scent. “Have fun tonight, sweetie, okay?”

“Of course, Mom,” I replied, my voice muffled by her shoulder.

She pulled back gave me a soft smile, still squeezing my shoulders.  The concern in her eyes was evident no matter how hard she tried to hide it behind smiles and hugs.

Before she had a chance to get even more emotional, Moose’s fingers were lacing with mine, and he was leading me out of the house and into the cool evening air.  The sun hadn’t quite set yet, and everything was cast in a golden glow.  I looked up at the steeple of the church—the bell tower was set in stark, shadowy contrast against the honey-colored sky.  Sucking in a long breath, I tried to shake away the memory of the Friday morning we spent in the bell tower, drinking cheap wine and talking about our terrible dads.  I couldn’t, though.  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the memory.  I couldn’t shake his smile, his dumb jokes, the way his hands felt on my hips, the way my body tucked so perfectly into his.  No matter how hard I tried not to think about him, he was always there.

I’d accuse myself of being dramatic if it didn’t hurt so damn much.

“Hey, Lyds.” Moose’s voice snapped me out of my memories. “You ready?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” I shook my head, running my hand through my freshly-curled hair as I followed him to the truck. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine.” His hands were gentle as he helped me up into the truck, his laugh infectious as I struggled not to trip over my own shoes.

For a moment after we were alone in the truck, we were both silent.  Then, we let out a simultaneous sigh of relief.  I looked up at him with a smile, grateful the golden light would be covering my blush. “Thank you, Moose.”

“For what?” He tucked his hand behind his neck, his brown eyes narrowing in confusion.

“For acting like this whole thing isn’t super fucking weird.”

His eyes widened slightly, and he paused before answering, smirking. “Oh, come on now, Lyds, what’s weird about two friends with a messy, depressing, but kind of _awesome_ history going to Homecoming where they’ll almost surely run into her ex, who happens to be his best friend and will probably be drunk?”

I barked out a laugh, unable to contain myself when I saw the amused look in his eyes.  Within seconds, we were both laughing, the gut-wrenching, heart-pounding kind of laugh that was all you could do when everything in you wanted to sob.  For a while, it was all we could do.  After all the shit we’d been through in the past six months, all we could do was sit in his truck, decked out in formalwear, laughing about how fucking horrible our lives were.

By the time we had calmed down, the sun had dipped below the church, casting the truck in shadows.  Moose’s hand slipped over to me, and he wrapped it tightly around mine. “You know how much I love you, Lyds, right?  Like, regardless of what happened between us, Midge, Reggie, whoever, I love you.”

“I love you too, Moose.” My lips curved into a bitter smile.  We were saying the words, but we both knew what they meant.  We absolutely did love each other, but it wasn’t the kind of love I needed it to be—it wasn’t the kind of love that would replace Reggie.

* * *

 

Reggie slipped his hand into his pocket, his eyes darting anxiously around the crowded gymnasium as he fingered the little roll of power.  No matter where he looked, what he saw made his head hurt.  Chuck and Nancy.  Josie, Melody, and Valerie.  Archie and Veronica.  Even Betty and Jughead.  Everywhere he looked, everyone had their people.  Everyone was smiling, dancing, having fun.  Even Weatherbee looked like he might crack one of his rare grins.  Reggie was immune to it all, though, his lips pressed into a tight line. 

The music thumping through the room just sounded like static—the colorful flashing lights blurred together—everything was moving too fast and too slow all at once.  It had been a long time since he’d had jingle jangle, a long time since he’d craved the sweet release that even alcohol couldn’t give.  It was different than he remembered, though.  The drug was hitting him harder, and he wasn’t sure if it was the number of vodka shots he pounded before he left or the ever-present realization that he was absolutely, utterly alone in a sea of people that used to be his friends.

The plan had been that tonight would be the night he talked to Lydia.  He and Josie had planned the whole thing out, how he would apologize, beg for forgiveness, declare his love, the whole shebang. 

But then he started thinking about it.  He started thinking about how she would look, walking in with Moose.  She would probably be wearing green—she liked the way it matched her eyes.  He tried to imagine the dress, how it would curve perfectly to her body, revealing just enough to drive him crazy while still being so absolutely her.  She was too shy to show off too much, too convinced that she wasn’t “hot enough” to wear something more revealing.  Whatever she was wearing would be perfect, though.  No matter how she looked, it was always perfect.  

As he lost himself in his daydreams, his vision blurred again, and he didn’t know if what he was seeing was his imagination or real life.  Suddenly, she was there, in a green dress, but it wasn’t the one he has imagined.  And she didn’t look happy enough.  Her and Moose weren’t even holding hands, and her eyes were cast toward the floor.  It couldn’t be real, could it?  She should be happier than that.

Before he could move any closer, though, hands were nearly yanking him off his feet. “C’mon, man, they’re going to announce Homecoming King and Queen.” A scoff. “Not like you need to worry about that, though.”

“Chuck.” Reggie wasn’t sure if he had said the name out loud. “Fuck off, man.”

“No way, dude.” Chuck’s voice was level, like he was actually sober. “Weatherbee was giving you sketchy looks, and I don’t need your dumb ass getting busted for drugs so early in the season.”

 _As if it even matters,_ Reggie thought.  When he did manage to get off the bench, he played like absolute shit—too distracted by everything and nothing.  He let himself be pulled along.  Chuck dragged him into the throng of people, pulling him to a stop next to Nancy and Josie.  The two girls gave him an inquisitive look, and all he could manage was to return with a sloppy wink.

Josie’s eyes narrowed in concern, but before she could do anything else, Cheryl’s voice was booming through the gym.

“As student body president, it is my honor to announce the Homecoming King and Queen of Riverdale High.  Of course, I must first clarify that I was _not_ in the running for this particular honor as I chose to focus instead on—”

Weatherbee cut her off by clearing his throat loudly. “Keep it moving, Miss Blossom.”

“Of course, Mr. Weatherbee.” She curved her lips into a wide grin, and Reggie couldn’t help but think that her red-painted lips looked like they were bleeding. “Let’s start with the gentlemen.  This year’s Homecoming King is…” she paused, drawing the words out for dramatic effect. “Moose Mason!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, everyone congratulating him as he worked his way through the crowd.  Reggie wasn’t watching him, though.  He was watching Lydia.  He had spotted her now, tucked into the crowd next to Archie and Veronica.  She was smiling proudly, clapping and cheering for Moose like everyone else.  He lurched forward, not even realizing he was moving until Chuck’s arm wrapped around him, yanking him back into place.

“Get it together, man,” he snapped, his voice barely audible over the roaring crowd. “If you can’t keep it together, you need to go home.”

His words drifted through his head, but it was all too fuzzy to make sense.  He could have been on that stage, had things gone right.  Even this year, he had somehow made it onto the court—he always did.  Apparently, Lydia wasn’t the only one that liked Moose better, though.

“And, our Homecoming Queen is…” Another dramatic pause. “Josie McCoy!”

Josie beamed as she walked up onto the stage, greeting Moose with an excited hug.  Josie.  Another could have been.  They could have been great.  Why the hell couldn’t they just have had stronger feelings for each other?

Reggie’s gaze caught on Lydia again, and he was amazed he’d even been able to look away.  She was cheering again—her and Josie had been hanging out more.  Everyone had sided with her, after all.  Everyone knew she was the better person, the better friend.  Reggie blinked painfully, his eyes burning with tears.  He couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t be there.

Ignoring shouts from Chuck, Reggie dipped through the crowd, his legs moving faster than he would have thought possible in his current state.  Somehow, he managed to burst out into the cool night air, exhaling a deep sigh of relief.  He slumped off the main walkway to the sidewalk next to the building.  Letting his legs crumple below him, he shoved his hand back into his pocket to fish for the half-finished stick of jingle jangle.  He was already too far gone, too drunk and high all at once, but he needed more, needed to unsee her smile.

Before he could lift it to his lips, though, a soft hand curled around his wrist.

“Reggie, stop.”

He was dreaming—he had to be.  He’d dreamt about it enough, her coming back.

“Reggie, can you hear me?” her voice was worried, urgent.  She slipped the jingle jangle out of his grasp, moving her cold hand to his face to hold his head upright. “Reggie, say something, please.”

“I’m dreaming,” he replied, his words slurring. “I have to be dreaming.”

She sighed, and he heard the sound of rustling fabric. “Fuck, Reggie, what are you doing?”

He blinked hard, his vision clearing slightly. “Lydia?”

“Yeah, Reg, it’s me.  Are you okay?” Her face came into focus—she looked pale under the harsh fluorescent lampposts.  Her eyes were rimmed with dark circles.

“Lydia, I—” He lurched forward, but she held him in place. “Lydia, what—”

“Jesus, Reggie.” Her voice cracked slightly, and he wondered why.  Her hair was curlier than usual, and her lips were a darker shade of pink. “And to think I thought we might talk tonight.”

“Wait, Lyds—” His voice cracked as he choked back a sob. “Please.”

She bit her lip hard, a gesture Reggie recognized—she was trying not to cry.  He was making her cry again.  Just like he did every fucking time.

“Reggie, we can’t talk when you’re like this.” She pulled out her phone, typing out a quick message. “C’mon, you have to be able to see that.”

“But, angel, I—”

“Stop, Reggie.” She cut him off, her tone biting. “Don’t you dare do that right now.  The only reason I’m here right now is that I love you too fucking much to watch your high ass stumble out of the school and into the road or something.  That doesn’t mean you get to act like anything’s okay.”

“You love me?” he croaked out, his voice weak.  He was thirsty now, desperate for something to wash away the sugary flavor of the jingle jangle. “How—”

“Of course, I do,” she said, her voice suddenly softer. “It’s not like I just turned it off, Reg—”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Moose let out a curse, yanking the cheap plastic crown off his head and tossing it toward a bush. “Chuck, when did he do this?”

“I don’t know, man,” Chuck answered, tossing his hands in the air.  “I mean, he was already drunk when Nancy and I picked him up, but I don’t know when he got the jingle jangle.”

Lydia crossed her arms over her chest, standing up to face the taller boys.  Still clutching the half-finished stick of jingle jangle, she gave Chuck a hard look, and Reggie wondered once again if he was dreaming.  “Can I trust you to get rid of this?” she asked.

He nodded, taking it from her. “Of course—I can’t stand that shit.  Messes with me too much.”

She nodded briefly, looking down at Reggie and biting back some other emotion.  Her voice wavered slightly on the next question. “And can you find him somewhere to stay tonight?”

Chuck nodded knowingly, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Yeah, I’ll bring him back to my place—he can sleep it off in the pool house.”

“Thank you.” Moose reached out to take her hand, and she brushed him off, crouching back down to Reggie’s level.  Her eyes were watery. “Hey, Reg?”

He nodded blearily, trying to force his eyes to focus on her. “Yeah?”

“Please, please take better care of yourself.” She ran her hand through his hair, pushing it off his face so she could catch his gaze with her own.  Her fingertips were soft and cool against the back of his neck. “For me, okay?”

“Okay.” The word left his lips instinctively.  For her, he’d do anything.

“Good.” She squeezed his shoulder briefly before standing back up and allowing Moose to wrap her in his coat.  Her entire body was shaking.  Before he could say anything else, though, she was gone.

Chuck crouched down next to him, hauling him off the ground and forcing him onto his feet. “C’mon, man, we need to get you some water and into bed.”

Reggie murmured some kind of consent, wrapping his arm around Chuck’s shoulder for support.

Chuck’s shoulders heaved with a long sigh. “I sure hope this was a goddamn wakeup call, man.”

Reggie just nodded, his tongue too heavy for words. 

* * *

 

Moose’s house was dark and quiet when we got back.  Homecoming had barely even started, so Molly would still be gone, and Moose’s mom would still be with the kids at the neighbor’s campfire. I was still wearing Moose’s coat—it was huge on me.  Huge and warm and comforting, and if smelt just like him. 

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the image of Reggie out of my mind—the way he looked as he stumbled out of the gym, his normally strong body crumpled into the sidewalk.  _Angel_.  The word was still ringing in my head.  _Angel._   It was just a dumb nickname. _Angel_.  He probably had called countless other girls that.  _Angel_.

I had seen the way he looked at me, the way his entire face shifted like I’d just saved him from drowning.  I’d never seen him like that before, so out of it.  On the one hand, it made it harder to read him, harder to know how straight he was thinking.  But on the other, it was almost easier.  He wasn’t as guarded as usual, and he wasn’t thinking about what expressions he was making. 

The look in his eyes couldn’t lie.

What he was feeling was absolutely real, and he was still just as much in love as I was.

“Hey, Lyds, let’s go downstairs.” Moose gently nudged me in the direction of the stairs.  They were in the back of the kitchen—a route I had taken countless times back in the spring when I spent as much time there as in my own house.

When we got to the basement, I just sat down, still too dazed to do much as Moose worked around me.  He tossed me a blanket, and I quickly shrugged off his coat to wrap myself in it.  I settled deeper into the couch.  Before long, there were a few more blankets on the couch and soft music playing in the background.  Moose finally sat down next to me, yanking his tie off and tossing it aside.

“Lydia, are you okay?”

I bit my lip, considering the question as I turned to look at him.  There was no way I could have predicted how much it would hurt to see Reggie.  “I think so.”

He nodded, but he still looked unsure.  He rested his hand on my knee, his thumb brushing lightly against my cold skin. “Want to talk about it?”

My eyes squeezing shut, I shook my head.  I took a few deep breaths, focusing on what was immediate.  His hand on my leg.  The rough material of the couch against my legs.  The soft blanket around my shoulders.  The tightness where my dress was biting into my waist.  That was all real, all here.  I forced my eyes open, my breathing still ragged.  “I don’t know what to do, Moose.”

“What do you mean?” His hand drifted to my waist, gripping tightly to hold me upright. “What’s going on, Lydia?”

My shoulders shook as I exhaled. “None of this feels real right now.  I don’t know what’s happening.”  A familiar ache in my gut was starting to spread to my chest, shortening my breaths.  My hands were shaking now, and I could feel every heartbeat radiating through my body.

“Lydia, it’s okay,” Moose soothed, pulling me close to him and wrapping his body around mine.  He was bigger than Reggie, and my head didn’t rest perfectly on his shoulder. “I think you might be having a little bit of a panic attack again.”

“Probably,” I murmured, my voice heavy with tears. “I’m due.”

She scoffed, brushing my hair off my face to look at me. “He’s going to be okay—Chuck’s got him.”

“I know.  I just—” I bit back the words before I could regret them.  A sob shuddered through me, catching me by surprise as the words slipped out anyway. “Is it too late?”

He was silent for a moment, and the only sound in the room was the quiet music he had turned on earlier.  I was grateful for it now, for the way it kept me from fixating on my own spiraling thoughts.  Moose’s grip on my waist tightened, and then he sighed heavily.

“What do you want me to say, Lydia?”

I slipped off his lap, my breathing slowly returning to normal. “The truth, or at least, the truth as you see it.  Do you think Reggie and I still have a chance?  Do you think there’s any way we can salvage this shitshow and give it a real go?”

Again, he was silent for a long moment.  Moose’s thoughtfulness, which I had always appreciated, was suddenly incredibly annoying.  Finally, though, he nodded. “I do.”

Biting my lip, I nodded softly.  Moving slowly, I took his hands in mine. “Moose,” I ventured, forcing myself to keep my tone light.  My brain was still spinning with questions, but there was one in particular that I had to clear up before I did anything too crazy. “We’re on the same page about us, right?”

He laughed, smiling for what felt like the first time in ages. “What?  That we’re madly in love and ready to run off to the courthouse to be married as soon as it opens tomorrow?”

“Jackass.” I shoved him back onto the couch as he burst out in laughter.

“Damn, Lydia, since when do you swear so much?” His shoulders were still shaking as he attempted to stifle his laughter.

“Since you started annoying the ever-loving- _shit_ out of me,” I replied, dragging out the emphasis on _shit._ “For real, though.  I had to make sure everything is good between us, Moose.  You’re my best friend, and—” I cut off, my throat catching.

“And you can’t lose another one,” he finished softly. “I get it, Lyds.”  He took my hand in his, squeezing tightly. “And you won’t.  Look, I know things have been all over the place between us, but we’re good now.  We made it through the worst goddamn storm of our lives, Lydia, and we’re coming out the other side.  You know I’ll always be here for you, but as a friend.” He chuckled, running his hand through his now-messy hair. “You’re in love with Reggie—anyone with eyes can see that.  And I’m still trying to figure out whatever the fuck is going on with me and Kevin.  Maybe if things had been different, we might have been…” He trailed off, his lips curving into a familiar smirk. “But they’re not.  Midge is gone, and we need to move on.  We’ve helped each other do that, but this isn’t _our_ story anymore.  We’ve got to much shit to do to keep holding on to each other like this.”

“Moose.” I smirked. “Are you breaking up with me?”

He rolled his eyes, leaning in close to press a soft kiss into my forehead.  He lingered for a moment, his hand on my cheek and his lips warm against my skin. “Not breaking up, just redefining.  Let’s just be best friends, okay?”

“Okay.”

He pulled back, and a calm settled over the room.  All the tension had been sucked out, replaced by a quiet, easy understanding. “I think you should go talk to him tomorrow.  He’s going to be blaming himself for all this.”

“I know.”

“Are you going to give him another chance?”

I looked down at my hands, surprised to see them completely relaxed on my legs.  For the first time in over a month, I had a plan.  “I love him, Moose, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't want to spoil my own fic, but I promise this is the turning point. Things really will get better from here.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! If you're enjoying this story, please drop a comment. They mean the world to me and inspire me to keep writing! As always, thanks so much to everyone who has commented, kudos, bookmarked, etc.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: explicit sexual content/smut

Reggie woke up to the sound of a door slamming open.  Then, someone flicked on the lights, and a spike of pain shot through his skull. “What the…”

“Oh, shit, sorry man.” Chuck hit the lights, and the room went dark again. “Forgot how shitty you must feel.”

 _Shitty is an understatement,_ Reggie thought.  His head was throbbing—the combination of alcohol, jingle jangle, and a nearly sleepless night taking a painful toll.  His back and neck hurt, too, and his arms and legs felt weak.  Nausea radiated through him, and his throat was dry and painful.  On top of that, Lydia had been the one to find him—Lydia had been the one to see him looking like absolute hell.  He didn’t think it was possible for him to feel any worse.

“You have any water?” he muttered, his eyes still squeezed shut.

“Sure do.” Chuck handed him a bottle, and Reggie drank gratefully, keeping his eyes shut tight.  The water helped, but his head was still spinning when he sat up. “So, man,” Chuck started, sitting down on the foot of the bed. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Reggie answered, finally opening his eyes slightly.  The room was still pretty dark, but light was starting to shine in through the cheap blinds, and it made his head throb.

“Too damn bad.” Chuck gave him a hard look. “Because I’m sick of watching this shit.”

Reggie pushed himself upright, running his hand through his hair and off his face. “What do you mean?”

“This whole spiraling into a pit of self-destruction thing—it’s getting old, man.”

Reggie’s eyes narrowed, and he had to force himself to look closely at Chuck’s expression.  To his immense surprise, Chuck wasn’t smiling—there wasn’t even a hint of humor on his face.  Reggie looked closer.  He didn’t look mad either.  No, he looked almost concerned. “And what do you want me to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” Chuck said, shaking his head. “At this point, anything.  You’re drinking so much that I don’t know how Dad hasn’t kicked you off the team.  Not to mention, you hardly talk to anyone anymore.  I don’t get it, man.  She was just some girl.”

Rage burned through Reggie, and if he hadn’t been so dizzy, he probably would have clocked Chuck right there. “She wasn’t just _some girl_ , asshole.”

Chuck’s eyes widened at Reggie’s biting tone. “Okay, then.  Either way, it’s been a month, and you’re still a fucking disaster.  You’ve got to do something about that unless you want to spend the second half of your junior year in rehab.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Look, man, I care about you, and I hate seeing you like this.  I’m not going to pretend to get it, but I know that it fucking sucks.  You should have seen yourself last night—when Lydia found you there…” He trailed off.

“What?” Reggie snapped. “When she found me there…what?”

“She thought you were seriously hurt, Reg.  I don’t know how much you remember, but the text she sent me and Moose was scary—we thought we were going to have to call 911 or something.”

Reggie’s heart thudded, and a fresh wave of nausea overcame him.  Lydia had found him like that, had chased him out of the gym only to find the guy she loved slumped on the ground high out of his mind. _The guy she loved._   She had said that she still loved him last night—he remembered that much.

“I need to talk to her.” He lurched forward, but Chuck stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Slow down, dude.  Maybe you want to take a shower first?  Eat something?  Change out of last night’s suit?”

Dazed, he looked down at himself.  He was still in last night’s suit, tie and all.  Slowly, he realized how terrible he must look.  His hair was a wreck, his suit looked like trash, and he reeked of booze. “Good call.  I don’t need her to see me like this ever again.”

Chuck smiled softly, patting Reggie on the shoulder. “Sounds good, man.  Let’s get you put together so you can go win back your church girl.”

Reggie rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but crack a small smile.  “Thanks, Chuck.”

“Course, Reg.”

* * *

 

After the world’s fastest shower and a breakfast of toast and coffee, Reggie found himself dressed in a pair of Chuck’s sweatpants and a Bulldogs t-shirt.  He didn’t know how many times he’d said thank you, but he was sure it wasn’t enough.  Chuck even let him borrow his car—a rare gesture that Reggie didn’t fully appreciate until several hours after the fact, when everything had slowed down and he had time to consider just how good of a friend Chuck really was.

Reggie’s mind was on fire as he sped over to Lydia’s.  For the first time in a long time, though, his head felt completely clear.  He knew what he had to do, what he had to say.  And while he didn’t know how she would respond, he knew that he had to try.  Lost in his thoughts, Reggie flew past the little house, and he had to make a quick turnaround in the church parking lot to make it into the driveway. 

Moving on instinct, he slid out of the car, ready to run to the front door.  As soon as his feet hit the ground, though, he froze.  There was another car in the driveway, a truck, and standing outside that truck was Moose and Lydia, his arms wrapped around her and her head resting on his chest.  She was wearing his clothes, too, obviously too-big sweatpants and a familiar Bulldogs sweatshirt. 

Reggie’s heart sank into his stomach, and his entire gut twisted.  He was forced to swallow back nausea, his vision starting to spin.  It couldn’t have been real—he couldn’t have missed his chance again.  He did, though.  It was obvious, and he didn’t know why he’d try to deny it so long.  He didn’t know why he kept trying to convince himself there was still time—he’d missed his chance, and it was too late for them. 

His feet moved faster than his brain, scrambling back into the car and slamming the keys into the ignition.  Vaguely, he heard shouting from outside of the car.  He zoned it out, though, too preoccupied with getting the hell away from this godforsaken house and never coming back.

* * *

 

“That fucking idiot,” I shouted, barely aware of what I was doing as I yanked all of my stuff out of Moose’s car. 

“Lydia, relax,” Moose said, his eyes narrowed in concern. “You can still go talk to him.”

“Oh, I will alright.” I was amazed by what I was feeling—not helplessness or sadness, but anger.  This was not how this morning was supposed to go—he was not supposed to ruin everything with some dumb assumption about a simple hug.  “Thanks for the ride, Moose,” I shouted behind me, already halfway back to the house. “See you on Monday!”

He chuckled slightly as he pulled open his car door. “See you on Monday, Lyds.”

Ignoring my parents, I near-sprinted to my room, dumping all my clothes on the bed and changing frantically out of Moose’s clothes and into my own.  I must have still looked like an absolute mess, but I didn’t care.  I needed to talk to Reggie before he did something stupid or reckless.

I jogged back out of the house, shouting some kind of excuse at my parents on my way to the door.  They called for me to stop, to come back and talk to them, but I ignored it.  Fear was creeping into my chest, a cold feeling, like ice water seeping through my veins.  Reggie had been so close to destruction the night before, and I didn’t know what he might do if he thought his last chance was gone.

The drive flew by, and I didn’t even think about what I was going to say—I was too focused on getting across town without getting in an accident or arrested.  Before I knew it, I was at the Mantle’s doorstep, ringing the doorbell more than was probably polite.

Despite the early-ish hour, Melinda was dressed immaculately when she answered the door.  Her eyes widened in shock when she saw me. “Lydia, what are you doing here?”

“Mrs. Mantle,” I gasped. “Please, I need to talk to Reggie.”

Her eyes narrowed in concern, and then she nodded, pulling open the door the rest of the way. “He’s in his room.”

“Thank you,” I breathed, tagging the massive staircase at a jog.  My heart was racing, and my shortened breath made my throat burn.  I had to make things right, had to fix everything.  I had to make sure Reggie knew exactly how I felt about him, how much I needed him.  When I got to his door, I didn’t even bother knocking before throwing it open.

Reggie was laying on his bed with Vader on his chest.  The little dog was trying to lick his face, but Reggie was pushing him off.  He shot upright when he saw me. “Lydia, what—”

“Were you not even going to try?” The words slipped out before I had time to think them through—my voice barely above a whisper. “When you saw me with Moose—you weren’t even going to try?”

He was shaking his head now, scooping Vader off his chest and climbing off the bed to walk over to me.  His brown eyes were wide, and he couldn’t seem to close his mouth. “I—what—Lydia, what are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.” I shook my head, my eyes getting watery. “Maybe I’m making the biggest mistake of my life by coming here, but I couldn’t not do it.  I love you, Reggie, and I am fucking _pissed_ that we broke up over one stupid fight.” My hands clenched into fists, and I had to fight to keep myself from reaching out for him. “So, I’m here.  I’m here to say that I don’t want to be broken up—I don’t want to go back to that fucking school and try to pretend I’m okay when all I want to do is be with you.”

There was a loaded pause as his mouth snapped shut.  For what felt like forever, he just stared at me, an almost inquisitive expression on his face.  Then, he closed the gap between us, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing me.  Desperately, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, relaxing into the familiar feeling of his body pressed into mine.  As I sank into his touch, I could practically feel a weight lifting. 

We broke apart breathlessly, and he moved his hand to my cheek, cupping it gently as he pressed his forehead into mine.  His eyes were still shut, and his voice came out in a whisper. “Is this real?”

I nodded, pressing another soft kiss into his parted lips. “I want it to be.”

“But I fucked up, Lydia.” His squeezed his eyes shut tighter, trying to pull away from me.  I wouldn’t let go, though, determined not to let him even an inch out of my grasp.

“I fucked up too, Reg.  I could have come back at any time.  I could have answered your calls.” My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “I could have trusted you when you told me you loved me.”

“No, Lyds,” he murmured, finally opening his eyes. “Please don’t blame yourself.  I’m the one who fucked it all up—I didn’t want to love you as much as I do.  I was terrified that this might actually be real.  I’m such a fucking idiot, Lydia, and I don’t deserve you.  I guess it didn’t surprise me that you finally realized it.”

“Jesus,” I leaned forward into him, sighing contentedly when his grip on my waist tightened. “We both need to crawl out of our pits of self-loathing.”

He chuckled, running his fingertips lightly through my hair. “I just can’t imagine that you could love me as much as I love you.”

“Well, that’s too damn bad.” I smirked. “Because I’m pretty sure I love you more than you could ever love me.”

His smiled widened, and he dipped his head down to mine for a kiss. “So, then, we’re going to try again?  Maybe with a little less self-loathing and a lot more trust?”

“Deal.” I regripped his shoulders, pulling myself to his height for a kiss.  This time, it was slower, more deliberate and less desperate.  Slowly, I started pushing him back toward the bed.  Reggie took the hint, pulling me onto his lap as he sat down on the foot of the bed.

His lips were impossibly soft as he trailed kisses down my jaw to my neck.  His breath was hot against my skin—his touch shooting through me like electricity.  A shiver ran down my spine, and I rocked my hips into his, letting out a breathy moan. “Reggie?” I asked, running my hand through his hair and forcing him to look at me. “Do you have a condom?”

Reggie’s mouth fell open, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his stunned expression.  “Lydia, are you—seriously?  Now?”

Shrugging, I leaned in to drag my lips down his neck. “I can see how this might feel like a weird time…” I shifted in his lap, and he had to bite back a moan from the contact. “But I’ve wanted to have sex with you for a really, _really_ long time, and I’ve never wanted to as much as I do right now.”

He swallowed harshly, his muscles tense as he held himself in place. “Babe, are you sure it’s not just—” I sucked on his pulse point, and he cut off with a low moan. “The emotions and all.  We—” Rocking my hips into his, I smirked when he cursed under his breath. “I just want to make sure you’re sure, Lydia.”

“What do you need me to do to prove to you that I’m sure, Reggie?” I slipped my hands under his shirt, teasing my fingertips along his waist. “Because I know I’m sure, but I wouldn’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to.”

He tried to roll his eyes but was distracted when I went back to kissing his neck, sucking a light bruise into his already sensitive skin. “Fucking hell, Lyds.  Of course, I want to—I just want to make absolutely sure that you’re okay with this.  I know it’s a big—”

“Reggie.” I cut him off, pulling my hands back from his waist so it was clear that I wasn’t trying to distract him. “I have had sex before, and I will have sex again.  I’m sick of worrying about consequences and condemnation and meaning and purpose and duty and all of that other bullshit that has been force-fed to me my whole damn life.” I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “Right now, I want you, and I know you want me, too.  Can’t you trust me that that’s enough?”

Slowly, he nodded, his hands moving to my waist to pull me tight against him. “Yeah, I can.” His lips found mine as he started lifting my shirt off.  I pulled it off the rest of the way, and he slipped off his own.  Then, I slid off the bed, quickly discarding my leggings as he pulled off his sweatpants.  Once he was down to his boxers, I climbed back on top of him, pressing him down into the bed and running my hands down his chest.  His skin was hot against mine, the heat shooting straight to my core and making me whimper with anticipation.

“Reggie,” I breathed, trying to calm my racing heart. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Lydia.” He cupped my face, kissing me so gently I thought my heart might explode. “So much.” He dragged his fingertips up my spine, and I shuddered into him, my dark hair pooling on his chest.  When he reached the clasp of my bra, he looked to me, waiting for my nod before popping it open.  Pressing down on my back, he pulled me into him, catching my nipple between his lips and sucking.  I gasped out a moan, arching my back desperately.

“Fuck,” I breathed, clinging to his shoulders.

He released my nipple and grinned, wetting his lips before turning his attention to the other one.  His hands had slid down to my ass, pressing me into his hardness and sending shockwaves through my body.  “Ready, angel?”

“Mhm.” Sliding off him, I fell onto the bed, my body still thrumming with anticipation.  My heart pounded in my chest as he hopped off the bed to rifle through a drawer.  I propped myself up on my elbows to look at him—the way his messy hair fell into his face, the faint scar across his right hip from a middle school football accident.  It had been over a month since I’d really seen him, since we’d been this close, but everything about him was still so intimately familiar.  At that moment, he was all I wanted, the only person in the world I could even think about.

His lips curved into a soft grin, Reggie climbed back onto the bed, covering my body with his as he kissed me. “Promise you’ll let me know how you’re feeling, okay?  I want to make sure this is absolutely perfect for you.”

“Perfect?” My eyebrows quirked with amusement. “That’s a pretty high expectation, Reg.”

He rolled his eyes, his thumb dragging tantalizingly along my hipbone as he held me down on the bed. “You know what I mean, Lydia.  Seriously, tell me how you’re feeling, okay?”

Biting my lip, I nodded. “Okay.”

Nodding, he slid his thumbs under the waistband of my panties, pulling them down my legs and tossing them aside.  He moved to his boxers next, taking them off much more quickly before sitting back on his knees between my legs.  My hand rested on his thigh, tracing absentminded patterns in his skin as I watched him put the condom on.  There was a tingly, nervous feeling in my stomach.  I had been waiting so long for this moment, and now it was finally here.  I didn’t even give a damn that we had been broken up an hour before—all I wanted was him.  Once the condom was on, Reggie trailed his fingertips up my thigh and teasing them over my exposed core.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, babe,” he murmured, leaning into me for a kiss.  Gently, he slid a finger into me, moaning into my lips as my hips jerked toward him. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” I tipped my head back on the pillow as he dragged the head of his cock over my entrance and to my clit.  My back arched, and I let out a breathy whine. “Please, Reg.”

“Alright babe, I’ve got you.  Just relax.” Almost painfully slowly, he started sliding into me, giving me time to adjust to his size.  I clung to his shoulders, incoherent sounds slipping from my lips as he filled me. “How’re you doing, Lyds?” he asked, his jaw clenched with concentration.

“Really fucking good,” I replied, overwhelmed by how deliciously full I was. “You can go faster.”

He chuckled slightly, moaning as he pushed the rest of the way in. “Oh, fuck.”

I pulled his head to mine for a kiss, sighing into his lips contentedly.  That was all the cue he needed to start moving, rocking his hips into mine at a tortuously slow pace.  While it did sting a little, I was too overcome with desire to even notice it—everything felt too damn good.  With one hand, he was holding himself up, but with the other, he cupped my face, his touch light as he pressed soft kissed into my skin.

“Faster,” I pleaded. “I need more.”

He responded eagerly, picking up his pace and pressing me back into the bed with every thrust. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby.” His hands moved to my hips, lifting me slightly to hit the perfect angle. “Oh my God, you feel so good.”

All I could do was moan in reply—every thrust felt like a lightning bolt shooting through me, charging my entire body with static electricity.  Then, his thumb moved to my clit, and I nearly screamed, burying my face in his shoulder in an attempt to muffle my cries. “Reggie,” I murmured, my fingertips digging into his tense shoulders. “Yes, _fuck.”_ The dull heat in my core had intensified, and fire seemed to be seeping through my veins.  I was close, and every time his thumb flicked across my clit, I saw stars.

“I’m close, Lyds,” he murmured, his thrusts starting to grow ragged and uneven. “I’m so close.”

“Me too.” I bit back a moan. “Just keep—” My orgasm crashed over me, flooding my body and making my vision blur.  My legs shook, and my nails dug into Reggie’s back as I lost control.  My body pulsed around him, and he nearly shouted, slamming into me as his own orgasm hit a few thrusts later.  He collapsed into me, pressing sloppy kisses into my collarbones as he pulled out.   

I relaxed back into the pillows, grabbing the rumpled blanket and pulling it over myself as Reggie climbed off the bed and into the bathroom.  He was back seconds later, crawling under the covers with me and curling his body around mine so that his chest was flush with my back.  I tipped my head back on his shoulder, my breathing starting to steady.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, twisting a lock of hair off my face. “All good?”

“Mhm,” I replied with a yawn. “All great, actually.”

He laughed, kissing the top of my head. “Me too.”

“We should do this again sometime.” I rolled over to face him, slipping my arm around his waist and tracing my fingertips along his back.  His cheeks were flushed, and his hair was an absolute mess.  His eyes were warm, though, warm and bright and one of the things I’d missed the most in the last month.  Lightly, I dragged my thumb across his lower lip, tracing down his jaw to cup the back of his neck.  His breathing slowed as he relaxed into my touch. “I love you, Reggie.”

“I love you too, Lydia.” His lips brushed against mine, and I held him close for a slow kiss.  Our legs tangled together, and Reggie pulled the blanket tighter around us as I cuddled into his arms. “God, I fucking missed you.”

“Let’s not fight like that again, okay?” I murmured, drowsiness overtaking me.  Everything was just so warm and comfortable and perfect, and I could barely keep my eyes open. “I don’t think I could handle going through that again.” 

“Me neither.” His grip on my tightened, and he let out a shaky breath. “I don’t ever want to lose you like that again, Lydia.”

“You won’t, Reg.” I didn’t mean for it to sound so much like a promise, but as the words escaped my lips, I didn’t even care.  It was my turn to start deciding what I wanted in life, who I was going to be.  And if I wanted to promise Reggie Mantle that he wasn’t going to lose me, _nobody_ , not even myself, was going to stop me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised it'd get better! I can't believe how close I am to the end of this fic. As always, thanks so much to everyone who's read, commented, kudos-ed, bookmarked, etc! You guys mean the absolute world to me!


	22. Chapter 22

Lydia was already in her seat when Reggie got to trig, absentmindedly doodling little designs on the back of her notebook.  She was nodding her head slightly to the beat of the music in her headphones, too absorbed in her doodling to notice him walk in. 

Reggie couldn’t keep his eyes off her.  Her long hair fell in her face, reminding him of how it looked splayed across his pillow the day before, and suddenly his mind was flooded with images—her pale skin in sharp contrast with his navy sheets, her fingertips clutched around his bicep, the way she breathed his name, her mouth falling open as she—

“It’s rude to stare, you know,” Lydia said, cutting off his drifting thoughts.  She was looking up at him, her lips curved into an amused smile as if she could read his mind.

He matched her smirk with his own and crossed the room to her desk, hopping on it and leaning in close for a kiss. “Just can’t keep my eyes off the prettiest girl in the world,” he murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She kissed him chastely, biting back a smile as she pulled away sooner than he would have liked. “No making out in class, Reg,” she warned.

“Aw, what’s the fun in that?”

Rolling her eyes, she set down her pencil to give him a firm look. “Oh, I don’t know—maybe not getting suspended?”

“Overrated,” he scoffed.  Then, smiling more softly, he reached out and took her hand in his, tracing little circles on her smooth skin with his thumb. “I like this, you know.”

“Like what?” Her eyebrows rose expectantly, sure there was a bad joke to follow.

Instead, his voice was soft. “Being a normal couple, getting to be with you at school.” He lifted her hand to his mouth for a gentle kiss, and then he chuckled. “Even if I can’t make out with you in class.”

Lydia squeezed his hand tightly. “I like it, too.”

“Aw, if it isn’t the lovebirds, all happy and gross again,” Chuck drawled, rushing into the room just seconds before the bell rang. “Glad to see you two hanging all over each other.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, and Reggie could see how badly she wanted to respond.  She didn’t, though, choosing instead to pull out her notebook and resume doodling.  Luckily, the bell rang before Chuck could say anything cruder, and Reggie had to hustle back to his seat.  Chuck flopped into his own desk, leaning over to whisper something to Lydia.  Instead of ignoring him, though, Lydia had to stifle a laugh, giving him a hard look and whispering something in return. 

Reggie’s eyes widened as he watched the interaction.  Apparently, that was another positive consequence of the Homecoming disaster—Chuck and Lydia didn’t hate each other anymore.  Reggie wasn’t sure what to think about that, but before he had much of a chance, class started, and he had to dedicate all of his energy to attempting to focus on trig instead of Lydia.

As soon as the teacher started talking, though, Reggie drifted off, his mind immediately wandering to the day before.  Lydia had stayed for hours—they had spent the morning curled in his bed together, sleeping off all the stress of the night before.  He could practically still feel her body tucked against his, the feel of her smooth skin under his wandering fingertips.  The memories were still so vivid—her green eyes fixed on his, the sound of her moaning his name, the way it felt as he fell into place between her legs. 

He swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut briefly as he forced himself to look back up at the board.  His jeans were starting to feel uncomfortably tight, and Chuck would never let him live it down if he got a hard-on in trigonometry.

The board was covered in equations now, and he had missed all of them.  Maybe he could convince Lydia to share her notes, even if the likelihood of them staying focused on homework was close to zero.  That was how it had gone the day before, too.  After lunch, he and Lydia had spent the afternoon “catching up,” which was code for Lydia telling him to get his shit together while he did his best to distract her with strategically-placed kisses.

Her plan had worked, though, and he had spent close to an hour before class in Coach Clayton’s office groveling to get back in the starting lineup.  Reggie’s lips curved into a soft smile.  Lydia hadn’t wanted to talk about herself or how she’s been doing—she wanted to talk about him.  She insisted that the only thing that would make her feel better was knowing he was okay, and he knew she wasn’t lying.  That’s just how she was—determined to love and take care of people regardless of how she was feeling.

The teacher’s voice cut through his thoughts, dragging him back into the present.  She was telling them to work on practice problems with the people next to them.  As Lydia turned to face Chuck, she looked back at Reggie, smiling when she caught him staring.

_Love you_ , she mouthed, the shape of the words familiar on her lips.

_Love you, too_.

* * *

 

At lunch, Reggie quickly found the table where Lydia was already sitting with Moose.  He slid onto the bench next to her, instinctively wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing a light kiss into her temple.  She sighed, leaning into him contentedly, and he couldn’t believe how easy it was, how quickly they’d fallen back into the familiar rhythm of being together.

Across the table, Moose rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. “Damn it, Mantle, does this mean I’m going to have to look at your ugly mug while I eat every day?”

“Ugly mug?” Reggie intoned, shaking his head. “I am _deeply_ offended, Moose.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, lifting her hand to his cheek.  Slowly, she dragged her fingertip down the line of his jaw, gently pulling his face to hers for a kiss.  “Don’t worry, Reg,” she said, her lips nearly touching his. “I still think you’re very pretty.”

He smirked, closing the distance between their lips and not giving a damn that they were sitting in the school cafeteria. “Thanks, babe.”

Shaking his head, Moose dumped out the contents of his bagged lunch and started eating. “So, Lyds,” he asked, taking a huge bit of his sandwich. “Did you ever decide on that whole River Vixens thing?”

“River Vixens thing?” Reggie gave Lydia a surprised look, his grip tightening on her hip. “What’s that about?”

“Well,” she drawled, slowly opening her lunch bag and pulling out her own sandwich. “Tryouts are after school today, and Nancy wants me to do it with her.”

Reggie’s eyes widened, and he had to pinch himself to shake the image of Lydia in a cheerleading uniform out of his head.  He swallowed hard. “I didn’t know you could dance.”

She rolled her eyes. “I did a little bit back in middle school, so it’s been a while.  Josie told me that they really need more people this year, though, so I might have a chance.  And I never said that I was going to do it, _Moose.”_ She gave him a firm look, and Reggie had a feeling that Moose wasn’t supposed to say anything in front of him.

Moose lifted his hands in surrender, his grin unshaking. “Just saying, Lyds, I think it’s a good idea—make some friends and all.”

“I happen to have friends, thank you very much.”

“But you need more friends,” Moose replied, popping a Cheeto in his mouth. “And based on the way Reggie’s staring at you all dreamy-eyed, I have a feeling that he’s very eager at the possibility of seeing you in a cheerleading skirt.”

Reggie blinked a few times, shooting Moose a glare as Lydia started laughing. “Asshole.”

“That true, Reg?” she asked, nudging him with her shoulder. “Are you a sucker for the star quarterback dating the cheerleader cliché?”

“When you put it that way, you make it sounds dumb,” he answered, once again struck by the image of Lydia in that short skirt.  He forced a nonchalant shrug. “But I might be inclined to admit that I find it somewhat attractive.”

Lydia laughed harder, holding his knee for support. “Alright, then.  I’ll go to tryouts for you then, babe—even if I do think it’s more likely that I’ll make a complete fool of myself than make it on the team.”

Reggie chuckled. “Well, how about this—practice ends around the same time.  If you make it, I’ll take you to Pop’s for a celebration milkshake.”

“And if I _don’t_ make it?” she asked, giving him skeptical look. “Then what?”

He grinned. “I’ll take you to Pop’s for a _sorry-you-didn’t-make-the-team_ milkshake.”

She rolled her eyes, trying not to smile at the amused look he was giving her. “Deal.”

* * *

 

It was already dark by the time I got home—tryouts had gone longer than I thought they would, and then Reggie and I had spent hours at Pop’s with Chuck and Nancy celebrating our making it onto the River Vixens.  I shook my head as I climbed out of the car.  It was a cold night for September, and Reggie had insisted that I wear his letterman jacket home.  I had argued, claiming that it was a dumb cliché, but it _was_ cold, and the jacket _was_ warm.  There was no way I’d ever admit to him how much I actually liked wearing it, though.

As soon as I saw that both of my parents were home, I bypassed the house, taking the short path up to the church instead.  They made their disapproval of my decision to get back together with Reggie clear, and I had a feeling that telling my dad I had made the cheerleading team would only add to his growing disappointment.  That was not a conversation I was in the mood to have after such an amazing day.

The church was blissfully silent when I walked in, all the lights off and everyone home for the night.  I made my way to the sanctuary, not bothering to flip on the lights as I navigated the familiar rows of pews to my unusual spot on the front one.  Sighing, I sprawled onto the pew, resting my head on my arm and looking up at the altar.  As always, Jesus was staring back down at me.

“Long time, no see,” I murmured, chuckling at myself.  The statue stared silently, and I let my eyes drift shut. “I suppose that’s a good thing, isn’t it?  Talking to a statue of Jesus that’s also kind of a stand-in for your dead best friend is really fucking weird if you think about it.” Taking a deep breath, I ran my hand through my hair.  I thought back to tryouts, how Nancy had been the first one to congratulate me, how we had been so excited for each other, laughing and hugging and gushing over how we would tell the guys.  Then, I thought about Midge, and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

“She could never replace you, you know.  No one could.”  I bit my lip, trying not to let the tears leak out.  We would have been on the River Vixens together.  Or maybe we wouldn’t have.  Midge had been trying to convince me to try out since Freshman year, but I had never budged.  What would have made this year any different?  What _did_ make this year different?

She was gone.  That’s what was different.  My best friend was gone, and no matter how great Nancy and Josie were, they just couldn’t fill the gaping hole in my heart.  Even Reggie couldn’t, not really.  So, I had to keep making friends, had to stay busy, had to distract myself so I didn’t think too hard about who was missing.   

And then there was Reggie.  Reggie, the amazing guy who made me feel more confident than I had in a long time.  Just being with him made me want to take more chances, try new things, maybe even live a little.  The thought made my gut hurt. 

It had been less than a year, only six months, since Midge had died, but it felt like a lifetime.  A lifetime that I wasn’t really allowing myself to live.  For the longest time after her death, every breath hurt.  Every time I inhaled or exhaled, I could see her face, hear her laugh, and it felt like a knife in my gut.  Now, though, I could almost go a whole hour without thinking about her, sometimes even more than one hour.  It felt like I was betraying her by letting people distract me from the pain, like if I stopped thinking about her, she would truly cease to exist.

I pulled Reggie’s coat tighter around me, breathing deep and taking in his familiar scent.  He would tell me that was crazy, that moving on is a normal part of healing, and he would be right.  I had been to enough funerals to know that, had spent enough time mourning elderly members of the church that had become like family to me.  You couldn’t grieve forever—it would be impossible, and your heart would just keep getting new holes punched out with every loss.  With Midge, it was different, though.  She hadn’t gotten to live a full life.  She never got to graduate high school, go to college, get married, have kids.  Her life was cut short in the most brutal way I could imagine, and it just made it hurt more.

“You’ve got to keep moving, Lydia,” I whispered. “You’ve got to keep moving.”

* * *

 

My feet hit the ground with a thump as the crowd erupted in cheers.  Next to me, Cheryl had landed with a flourish, her arms flying into the air as she struck a well-practiced pose.  My landing was a little shakier, but I was decidedly upright, so it was a success in my book.  Quickly regaining my balance, I jumped right into the choreography of the next cheer, my brain moving on autopilot through the steps Cheryl had all but beaten into us. 

For reasons I couldn’t even begin to fathom, Cheryl had taken a liking to me and decided that along with her and Josie, I would be a flyer.  To me, that seemed like an impossibly bad idea that was bound to land me in the emergency room, but seeing as I was one of a few girls small enough that had yet to piss her off, it was out of my hands.  And seeing as the whole point of this endeavor was to make new friends and try new things, I couldn’t exactly say no.

From the sidelines, I could see Reggie cheering.  He wasn’t on the field at the moment, and it was clear his focus wasn’t on the game in the slightest.  I rolled my eyes, shooting him a hard stare.  He only winked in response before turning his attention back to the field.

“Damn girl, and here I thought you were going to try to _save_ his football career, not ruin it,” Josie teased, flicking me lightly with her pom-pom. “The boy hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you all game.”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing my water bottle to take a sip as we settled back onto the bench. “Apparently, he has a thing for cheerleaders.”

Some girls I didn’t know started laughing under their breath as if I had just said the funniest thing in the entire world, and Josie shot them a fiery glare before looking back to me. “Don’t let them get to you, Lydia.  Some girls are just jealous that _they_ couldn’t get the illustrious Reggie Mantle to settle down.” She lowered her voice, shaking her head. “They really are just jealous.  Half the Vixens have a crush on him.” She snorted. “And the other half has a crush on Archie.”

I managed a laugh at that, swallowing hard as I attempted to push away my insecurities.  I knew about Reggie’s past, and anyone with eyes could see how many other girls were into them.  _He chose me,_ I reminded myself.  _Even after all that shit, he chose me_.

Nancy flopped onto the bench next to me, tossing her legs over my lap and letting out a dramatic sigh. “I’m beat already, guys.  How long until the game is over?”

“Less than a quarter,” Josie replied, glancing up at the scoreboard. “Which means that any minute now….”

“Vixens! On your feet!” Cheryl shouted as if on cue, her high-pitched voice cutting easily through the din of the crowd.

“There’s our cue,” Josie sighed, standing up. “Let’s get this over with so we can go get trashed on all of Chuck’s finest liquor.”

* * *

 

Reggie’s hands wrapped around my waist, pushing my back against the side of the building and pressing his body into mine.  The rough bricks were cold even through my uniform, but all I could focus on were his lips on my skin. “You sure you don’t want to keep that on, babe?” he murmured, pressing kisses into my neck.  We were alone, most of the team and fans having already dispersed to various parties, and he was taking full advantage of the privacy.

“I’m sure,” I laughed, resting my palms on his chest in a lame attempt to keep him back. “Not only would I look ridiculous, but there’s also no way I’m paying to have this sucker dry-cleaned when some asshole spills a beer on it.”

“Fine,” he whined, his hands drifting down my back to the curve of my ass. “I suppose that’s a real reason.”

“ _Reggie_ ,” I warned, trying not to laugh as he started to fiddle with the short skirt, slowly lifting it up. “Whatcha doing?”

“Nothing,” he replied innocently, returning his hands firmly to my ass with a squeeze. “You sure you still want to go to the party?”

I smirked, standing up on my tiptoes and kissing him deeply.  I laced my fingers through his hair, doing my best to pull myself up to his height. “Depends,” I breathed. “What do you propose we do instead?”

A low groan escaped from the back of his throat, and he pressed his hips into mine.  I could feel his growing bulge through his joggers, so I shifted my hips into his.  He jerked his hips in response, his grip on my ass almost painfully tight. “I think you know, angel.”

“I do.” I dragged my lips lightly down his jaw, sucking gently on his pulse point and earning a stifled moan. “But I still want to spend some time with our friends tonight.”

“We could probably manage both,” he replied, his voice strained as his hands moved to my hips. “You still need to change out of your uniform, right?  So how about we get into my car, I’ll get you out of that uniform and—”

“Reggie!”

“The windows are tinted, babe!” he laughed, tucking the hair that had come loose from my ponytail behind my ear to see my bright blush. “And there is _plenty_ of room in the backseat for all kinds of activities.”

I didn’t want to admit the effect his words were having on me, but I couldn’t keep a little whimper from escaping my parted lips. “You’re serious?”

“I don’t make jokes about sex, babe,” he said, fighting back a smile as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Oh my God, Reggie,” I groaned, resting my head on his chest. “Even _that_ was a bad joke about sex.”

“What can I say?” he laughed, squeezing me in a tight hug. “I just can’t help myself, just like I can’t help myself when it comes to how good you look in that damn uniform.”

“Well then,” I drawled, running my hand down his chest to the waistband of his pants. “Maybe I will let you help me get it off, seeing as I left my bag in your car and all.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, looking down at me as he bit his lip. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

* * *

 

Reggie couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he and Lydia walked into the party, his arm around her shoulders.  They were totally late, even for him, but he couldn’t care less.  Instead, he just looked down at the dark purple marks peeking out from under the collar of her sweatshirt and smirked.

Lydia elbowed him gently, giving him a firm look. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing in particular,” he replied with a grin, leaning in to kiss her on the temple. “Just my absolutely gorgeous, beautiful, wonderful girlfriend who I love more than anybody else in the whole wide world.”

She rolled her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re only saying that because you just got laid.”

“And because it’s true.” He pulled her to a stop, wrapping his arms around her and dipping his head down to hers for a kiss. “I do have the absolute best girlfriend in the whole wide world, and I’m not going to let anyone, even her, tell me otherwise.”

Before she could return with a snarky remark, Moose was on them, nearly knocking them off their feet in a bone-crushing hug.

“The prodigal couple has returned!” he cheered, earning a laugh from the people standing around them. “So good to have you both back and not miserable as fuck.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, grabbing Moose by the forearm and steadying him.  He was drunker than she had seen him in a while, his words starting to slur.  Her eyes narrowed slightly, and then she shook it off.

Noticing her concern, Reggie shoved Moose slightly, smiling when he didn’t fall over. “What the hell’s gotten into you, big guy?”

Moose grinned impishly, glancing over his shoulder at where Kevin was standing with Josie near the punch bowl. “Nothing really—just in a better mood than I’ve been in a long time.”

Lydia’s smile softened, and she bit her lip to keep herself from asking more questions. “Yeah, I think we all get that.”

Grinning, Moose wrapped an arm around each of them and started dragging them toward the backyard where the party was in full swing.  Music roared through the yard, and the lights in the pool shifted from color to color in time with the bass.  There were people everywhere—crowded around the pool, splashing into the water, sprawled out on the grass.  It was a hot night for September, and the air reeked of booze and weed.  As soon as Chuck saw them, he jogged over.  Like many of the guests, he was dressed in nothing but a swimsuit, a red solo cup in hand.

“Now, y’all don’t look like you’re ready to go swimming,” he greeted them. “And you look way too fucking sober.  Moose?”

“On it!” Moose called, jogging over to the corner of the patio where Chuck had lined up a series of coolers.

“Swimming,” Reggie scoffed, wrapping his arm tighter around Lydia. “In that pool?  I kind of like not having an STD, Clayton.”

“Bet Lydia likes it, too,” he replied with a devilish wink.

Lydia just rolled her eyes, accepting a cup from Moose when he returned.  She gave the liquid a hard look, her eyes narrowing. “What the hell is this?”

Chuck roared with laughter, slapping his thighs with the hand he wasn’t using to hold his drink. “That, Lydia, is a Chuck Clayton special recipe—jungle juice.”

Lydia’s eyes widened, and Reggie was about to say something only to be cut off by Nancy.

“Don’t get your panties in a knot, Mantle,” she laughed.  Like Chuck, she looked like she had just gotten out of the pool, wearing a hot pink bikini with a towel wrapped around her waist. “I helped him make it, and this jungle juice is lacking any unsavory special ingredients.” She gave Chuck a firm look, and his face tinged slightly with embarrassment.  “So, drink away, Lydia.”

Lydia took a careful sip, her eyes widening as the dark purple beverage hit her tongue. “Holy shit, that’s a lot of vodka.”

Nancy shrugged, wrapping her arm around Chuck’s waist. “Yeah, definitely still not a drink for the faint of heart.”

Lydia looked up at Reggie, her eyebrow raised inquisitively. “You good to drive tonight?”

“’ Course, I am,” he laughed, glancing down at his own beer. “You enjoy that ridiculous concoction.”

She took another sip, smiling mischievously. “I think I will.”

* * *

 

“No, you may not take it off,” Reggie laughed, glancing over at Lydia to make sure she still had her makeshift blindfold on. “It’ll ruin the surprise.”

“But Reggie,” she whined, sinking deeper into the seat. “If I have to keep my eyes closed any longer, I’m going to fall asleep.”

“You are not going to fall asleep,” he replied, rolling his eyes before glancing back down at the muted GPS.  “You’re a sucker for a good surprise, and there’s no way you’re falling asleep before this one.

“I may like surprises,” she agreed, sighing very dramatically. “But that doesn’t change the fact that my eyes are closed, I’m a little drunk, and I fall asleep very easily in cars.”

Reggie laughed, reaching over to take her hand in his. “Well, we’re almost there, but I would be happy to blare some Kanye for you if it’ll keep you up.”

“Not necessary,” she said, her tone indicating that she would be rolling her eyes if they were open. “I guess I’ll just suffer.”

“So dramatic, babe.”

“Says the guy who blindfolded me for a midnight car ride to a surprise location,” she said, turning as if to fix him with a hard stare. “Which, the more than I think about it, sounds like a setup to murder me.  Guy takes the girl to the party, gets her just drunk enough to go home with him, blindfolds her and sticks here in the car…” she trailed off. “I’m not going to be found murdered, am I?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

“So yes?” Lydia started as the car drove off the paved road and on to a gravel path, her grip on Reggie’s hand tightening.  He just smiled, running his thumb over the back of her hand.

“About ready to take that blindfold off?”

“Yes please!” She reached for it, but he held out a hand to stop her.

“We need to get out of the car first.  You stay put, and I’ll come around to help you out.”

She sighed impatiently, letting her hands fall back to her sides. “Fine, Reggie, but this better be good.”

He glanced out at the view, unable to contain his smile. “It will be.” He jogged around the car, pulling open her door and helping her to her feet.  Slowly, he walked her off the gravel clearing and on to the grass.  The wind had picked up since earlier, and Lydia shivered, instinctively pressing in closer to him.  Reggie held firm to her waist, guiding her to the perfect spot.  Once they were there, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing a soft kiss into her cheek. “Alright, babe, you can take it off.”

Carefully, Lydia pulled off the blindfold, gasping slightly when she saw the view.  They were standing on top of a bluff, looking down over the Sweetwater River and the entirety of Riverdale.  It was a clear night, and millions of stars twinkled in the sky above them.  Below them, the city was nothing more than pinpricks of light, almost a reflection of the sky above.

“Reggie, this is beautiful,” she breathed, her eyes wide as she looked down over the flickering lights of the city. “How did you find this place?”

He shrugged, pulling her closer and resting his chin on her shoulder. “Back in the spring, especially during the trials, I really, _really_ needed to get the fuck out of Riverdale.  Because of the whole trial, though, I couldn’t actually go far before my Dad all but sent the search dogs after me.  This ended up being a compromise.” He took a deep breath, taking in the familiar floral scent of Lydia’s hair. “From up here, it’s hard to imagine all the shit that goes on down there—all the drugs and riots and bodies and murders.  Up here, it’s all just lights.”

Lydia wrapped her arms around his, letting her head tip back on his shoulder. “It’s amazing.”

“For a while, it was all I had.  When everything sucked too much, I’d come up here and pretend it wasn’t real.” His voice cracked slightly, and Lydia turned to give him a concerned look.

“You okay, Reg?” She lifted her hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at her.  Her green eyes were narrowed in concern, but not the concern he was used to.  For years, the only time people had ever been worried about him, it was pity.  Pity or shame or regret.  Lydia didn’t look at him like that, though.  When she looked at him, he knew without a doubt that she loved him.

He swallowed hard, managing a smile. “I’m absolutely perfect, Lydia.”

“Liar.” She stood on her tiptoes, bringing her lips to his for a kiss. “No one’s perfect, Reg.  I’ll admit that you’re pretty damn close, though.”

“Oh really?” he asked, smiling for real now. “And what, if I dare ask, keeps me from being perfect?”

“Other than the bad jokes?”

“Other than the bad jokes.”

“You don’t see it in yourself.” Her voice was soft, so steady that he almost forgot she had even been drinking earlier. “You may not be perfect, Reg, but you’re absolutely fucking amazing, and you should see that.”

He scoffed, pulling her into a hug as the wind picked up again. “I guess I can see it, but only because there’s no way a girl as awesome as you would ever go for a guy as shitty as I think I am.”

She rolled her eyes. “I think we need to make a new relationship rule.”

“What’s that?”

“No talking about yourself in a way you think the other person wouldn’t.” When his look of confusion didn’t shit, Lydia continued. “Like, as in, I wouldn’t say that about you, so you shouldn’t either.”

“Ah, I see,” he said with a nod. “Sounds good to me.”

Smiling she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself impossibly closer. “So, I’ll start us off.  I have an _amazing_ ass.”

“Damn right you do,” Reggie murmured, letting his hands drift lower down her back.

Lydia giggled, resting her head on his shoulder. “Your turn to try it.”

There was a moment of silence, and the only sound was the wind rustling though the nearby trees.  Then, he nodded slightly, his eyes fixed on hers.  Taking a deep, steadying breath, he said, “I’m worth loving.”

“Damn right you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Thank you so much for reading. This has really been a huge journey for me, and I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> This is the final full-length chapter, but there will be a short epilogue in the next week or so, so stay tuned!
> 
> As always, thanks so much for commenting and reading!


	23. Epilogue

**_Six Months Later: March 16, 2019_ **

Frozen grass crunched beneath my boots, and Reggie’s hand on my back was the only thing keeping me steady.  The wind was bitingly cold, not unlike the year before.  It had been another long winter in Riverdale, one of those winters where the cold seeps in so deep that it feels like you can never get warm.  Even though it was almost April, the weather hadn’t gone much above freezing in weeks.  I had really hoped that it would be warmer, that it would be completely different from the year before, with flowers starting to bloom and little buds forming on all the trees, a much-needed reminder that there was still life in the world.

It wasn’t warmer, though.  Nothing was blooming, and when I looked up, all I could see was the bare skeletons of the trees rocking slowly in the wind.  Exhaling sharply, I crossed my arms, pulling my coat tighter around myself and refocusing on my footsteps.  One foot in front of the other— _keep your eyes on the path, Lydia, don’t look up yet—don’t look up yet._

“Lyds.” Moose’s voice was soft, and it was all it took to pull me to a stop.

Next to me, Reggie drew in a sharp breath, his hand on my back tensing, his fingertips curving tightly around my hip.  It was his first time visiting since the funeral, too.  Neither of us had been able to bring ourselves to come.

Of course, I could imagine what the stone looked like, had imagined the years _2002-2018_ carved into sharp relief on the slate-grey stone more than a million times.  I hadn’t been able to bring myself to actually look at it, though, to let those imaginations become a reality.  2002-2018.  Sixteen short years.  Midge only got sixteen years.  Years from now, when the stone is covered in moss and no one alive remembers the name Midge Klump, will they look back at this stone and shake their heads about what a shame it must have been?  What a waste of young life it was? 

Reggie’s hand fell from my back, and I could hear his staggered breath.  I didn’t turn to look, though, knowing that he needed the space just as much as I did.  Instead, I took a few steps closer, dragging my eyes upwards as my knees hit the frozen ground. 

_Margaret “Midge” Emilia Klump_

_July 4, 2002- March 16, 2018_

_Beloved Daughter and Friend_

_Our Sunshine Girl_

I choked back a sob, the force of it hitting me like a knife in the gut.  Then, I let loose, my entire body heaving with sobs as I held myself tightly around the middle.  I sunk lower toward the ground, unable to see anything but that stone, but her name.  _Margaret_.  No one had ever been allowed to call her Margaret, not even her parents.  Midge was just Midge, a cheerful, kind, silly, optimistic, confident girl who always had an encouraging word and a bright laugh.  And now, she was immortalized in just seven simple words.  How could anyone presume to capture even a fraction of Midge in just seven words?

There was movement behind me, and then Moose was at my side, wrapping his big arm around me and pulling me close.  He was shaking too, silent sobs wracking through his body.  I leaned into him, and I could feel both of our hearts racing, the sound of them so loud that it choked out the rustle of the wind.  Two hearts beating, racing, sprinting uncontrollably toward a destination that didn’t exist.

It could have been minutes or hours before we finally stopped crying, our heaving sobs fading into ragged breathing and then into silence.  I refocused on our beating hearts, both slower now.  Cautiously, I reached out and squeezed Moose’s hand, nodding tearfully.

He nodded back, wiping his eyes as he heaved himself back to his feet.  Then, he helped me up, and I found myself being pulled into a fierce hug by Reggie.  I melted into his arms, letting my legs go weak as he held me against him.  His heart was beating fast, but steady, and I zoned out everything but that, forcing myself to stay here and now.  He was still alive.  Moose and I were still alive.  We were all still alive, and we had to keep living.

* * *

 

As I watched the rushing water below me, I couldn’t help but think of the first time I’d been on this bridge—the day Moose and I ditched Midge’s wake together.  Both of us had been slowly going crazy, unable to stand person after person who barely even knew her telling us how much they would miss her when in reality, they’d hardly spoken a word to her since grade school.  Escape was really the only option, and the bridge had been a quick walk from the funeral home.

“Lyds,” Reggie said, nudging my hand with a coffee thermos and snapping me back into the present. “Still want one?”

I nodded gratefully, taking the thermos and popping open the lid.  Before taking a sip, I took a cautious sniff. “Peppermint hot chocolate?”

“Sure, we’ll call it that,” Reggie said with a grin, downing a big sip of his own.

Rolling my eyes, I took a sip. “Ah, I see.  Peppermint _Schnapps_ hot chocolate.”

He replied with a wink, taking another sip.  On my other side, Moose just scoffed, shaking his head as he downed a long swig of his own.

“What a long fucking year,” he mused, his eyes fixed on the water. “What a long fucking year.”

I reached over, taking his big hand in my own and squeezing gently. “I can’t believe how much has changed since last time we were here.”

Moose scoffed. “Midge is still dead.”

“Yeah, but we’re not.” Grabbing Reggie’s leg, I urged him closer to me.  He scooted over, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pressing a soft kiss into my temple. “We’re still alive.”

Moose’s lips quirked into a small grin. “S’pose we are.” He sighed, letting go of my hand to run it through his hair. “And I guess that means we’ve got to keep living.”

“Don’t have much of a choice, do we?” I bit my lip, and then smiled, mimicking his deep baritone voice to the best of my ability. “I guess all you can do is give up making sense of it and start trying to move on.”

Moose laughed slightly, shaking his head. “Damn, Boyd, you’ve got a hell of a memory, you know.”

“What can I say?” I shrugged. “I think about what you said a lot, Moose.  I couldn’t make sense of Midge’s death, no matter how hard I tried, and every time I tried, it would just hurt even more.  So—” I leaned closer into Reggie, resting my head on his shoulder. “I had to start trying to move on.  Not forget or ignore, but move on.  Midge was my best friend, and in a lot of ways, Midge always will be my best friend.  Which means we’ve got to keep living.  Midge wouldn’t want us to be sad forever.  She’d want us to live life, make friends, fall in love, do _everything_ that she won’t get to do.”

 Reggie smiled softly, dipping his head down to mine for a kiss. “Love you, Lyds.”

I cuddled in even closer to him. “I love you too, Reg.”

Moose chuckled, his brown eyes warm as he looked at us. “What, no love for me?”

“Not that kind, Mason,” Reggie scoffed, biting back a smile as he reached around to punch Moose playfully in the shoulder. “I do love you, though.”

“Aw, Reg, how sappy.”  He smirked, and then his smile softened. “I love you too, though.  Thanks for being such a good friend, man.”

Reggie shook his hand. “Nah, I should be thanking you, Moose.  You’re the one who’s been the better friend this year, especially when my dumb ass wasn’t doing anything to deserve it.”

“Never said it was a competition, Mantle,” Moose teased, taking another sip of his drink. “But I know how competitive you are, so I’ll let you have it.”

Rolling my eyes, I regripped Moose’s hand, tugging him closer to Reggie and me. “Well, I love you both, more than I can possibly put into words, and I know I never would have made it through this year without you.” I took a deep breath, looking out at the water rushing below us. “So, let’s keeping making it, one year at a time, the three of us.”

Moose nodded. “It’s what Midge would have wanted.”

Reggie held up his thermos, gesturing to us to lift ours for a toast. “Well, then, let’s raise some hell and make her proud.”

We all drank, huddled together against the wind, our laughter cutting through the sounds of the quiet forest.  Setting down my thermos, I smiled widely, wrapping my arms around each of the boys. “Let’s raise some hell and make her proud.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Close to one year later, this fic is finally done. I cannot believe it, and I just want to thank everyone who's stuck with me this long. Thank you so, so much to anyone who's read, kudos-ed, commented, or sent me a kind message! Your support really has meant the world to me.
> 
> Much love!!
> 
> PS: If you're not ready to be done with Reggie and Lydia yet either, be sure to Subscribe to my account for more fics. I have a few more one-shots planned for them, and they've already shown up in a few of my other works. Also feel free to send in requests on Tumblr @southsidewrites.


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